


Waiting For Sunshine

by nanases_h



Category: Free!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cats, Emotional Baggage, Eventual Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Lost Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nanase Haruka & Tachibana Makoto & Tokyo, Post-Break Up, Second Chances, Sexual Tension, Tokyo (City)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-01-13 03:26:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 23,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18460499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nanases_h/pseuds/nanases_h
Summary: After their first fight, Haruka flew abroad to swim for prize money, leaving Makoto to pursue his own future in Tokyo.Eight years later, a lost cat leads Haruka to Makoto, and they wonder maybe— just maybe—  they can begin again.





	1. wednesday my empty arms were open, thursday waiting for love

**Author's Note:**

> This story was born after that episode when Natsuya dropped his iconic line, “I swim when I want, wherever I want.”
> 
> I could see Haru doing that, so I thought why not? He probably couldn’t stand to be away from Makoto for eight years, but _what if?_
> 
> What if Makoto and Haru didn’t make it up after their first fight? What if Haru moved abroad to swim for prize money? What will happen if they meet again by chance eight years later? 
> 
> Let’s find out. :’)

Nothing could have prepared Makoto for the day Haruka showed up at his front door. 

With bated breath, he clutched his chest because how else could he hold himself together? His heart was a time bomb ticking in his rib cage, threatening to explode any second. He blinked once, twice, before testing his voice. 

“H-Haru?” 

“Makoto.” 

The world paused at the sound of his deep, quiet voice. Nanase Haruka was standing outside his door, his features looking different and familiar at the same time— the shape of his face sharper and more matured than he looked all those years ago, but with that same smooth expression and those electric blue eyes that could always pin Makoto in place. 

Nanase Haruka, the boy he grew up with. 

Nanase Haruka, his best friend, who would always stand between him and the menacing ocean. 

Nanase Haruka, his lost lo—

“Makoto? Are you okay?” asked Haruka, his eyebrows raised in concern. 

He opened his mouth in a desperate attempt to form words, any words, but no sound came out. A gentle  _ meow  _ interrupted the awkward silence _.  _

He gaped at the white cat nestled in Haruka’s arms. 

“N-Nikko?!”

“Oh yeah. I believe she’s yours?” said Haruka, offering the cat to her owner. “I’m here to return her.” 

Arms wide open, Makoto welcomed Nikko home. “Nikko! Where have you been?” He cuddled her and peppered her face with kisses until he felt his eyes glisten with tears. He bowed. “Th-Thank you very much! Please come in.”

Haruka hesitated for a moment before following Makoto inside his apartment. 

Throughout the years, Makoto had imagined their reunion multiple times, in different seasons, under different circumstances. He had them all mapped out in his head. In his favourite one, they would bump into each other at Shibuya Crossing, in the midst of faceless people. Once he got over his shock, Haruka would say _ sorry _ awkwardly, and Makoto would say  _ it’s okay _ and they would have coffee together and laugh as they talked about everything that happened since Haruka left. 

Of all his imagined scenarios, none of them included Haruka knocking on his door to return his lost cat. 

“I found her three days ago, but I only saw the signs yesterday,” said Haruka, sitting on the couch. 

Makoto rummaged inside his fridge to look for something to drink. Not knowing how else he could find Nikko, Makoto had called Nagisa and Rei to help him put  _ MISSING _ signs around their neighbourhood. 

“But someone else called to ask my address,” he said with a frown.

“That was my housemate.” 

“Ah, I see.” Makoto returned to the living room with two bottles of orange juice. “Orange juice?” 

“Thanks,” replied Haruka, and with a hint of smile in his lips, he added, “Don’t worry, I took good care of her.”

Makoto found himself taking the deepest breath he’d taken all day. “Thank you again, Haru! I was so worried.” He picked up Nikko who was purring and nuzzling his ankles. “Oh, I missed you too, Nikko!” 

He sat with Nikko on the opposite end of the couch as though he was afraid Haruka would evaporate if he came too close. “D-Do you want coffee instead? Or tea? I’m sorry I don’t have a lot of drinks in my fridge. I haven’t been to the supermarket lately—”

“It’s okay, Makoto.”

His heart surged at the mention of his name. “Right.” 

He patted Nikko’s fur to ebb the tide of self-consciousness in his chest. He was seeing his own home through Haruka’s eyes. Suddenly aware of the dusty shelves, the stacks of books and the pile of clothes on the floor. His unmade bed. The dirty dishes in the sink. Haruka was seeing the tiny, unkempt space he was living in, the same one he’d lived in since moving to Tokyo for university. But of course Haruka had already left by then. 

“ _ Sunlight, _ huh?” asked Haruka, the corners of his lips tugging teasingly. 

Makoto touched his nose to Nikko’s and smiled fondly. “She’s my ray of sunshine.” 

The white cat purred as if in agreement. 

“I got her when I moved here and she’s my favourite company,” said Makoto just as Nikko leapt from his lap to rub her head gently against Haruka’s hand. 

“Sh-She likes you.” His cheeks heated up at how comfortable his pet felt around Haruka despite meeting him only a few days ago. 

“I guess you’re not the only cat whisperer in Tokyo,” said Haruka. 

Makoto laughed sheepishly and cleared his throat. “Speaking of Tokyo, what brings you here?” and he added with haste, “if I may ask.” 

Nikko lifted her chin as Haruka stroked the top of her head, indulging in the attention he was giving her. “I’m here for a swimming competition,” he said. “It’s in three weeks, but I figured it’d be nice to explore Tokyo because I never really got the chance when I was still living here.” 

Makoto’s face brightened. “You swim competitively now?” 

“Yes,” he replied with an enthusiastic nod. “Do you remember Kirishima Natsuya?” 

“Ah, Natsuya-senpai? Our swim club captain in middle school?”  

“The very same. I met him again at a tournament in America some years ago. We travel together from time to time.” 

“Haru, that sounds great!” 

“He acts like an annoying big brother, but other than that, it’s the happiest time of my life,” he said. “I swim when I want, where I want.” 

A soft smile lingered in his lips, making Makoto’s heart skip a beat. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw this sight. He imagined Haruka lying on his back and gliding across a pool, feeling the water embrace him with his eyes closed. 

Memories of their last meeting flooded Makoto’s head. They had yelled words that cut deep into each other’s hearts. Haruka had wanted the world to leave him alone and let things be. For Makoto, it was a desperate attempt to make Haruka see some sense. Ever since he found Haruka and Rin arguing in the locker room during regionals, he had been terrified that Haruka would quit swimming again like he did in middle school, only this time for good. 

_ What dream? What future? I don’t have any of that! _ These words were gusts of wind that blew Makoto away. How could Haruka believe this? For his natural skills and all the hard work he put into swimming, he deserved to have a bright future ahead of him.  

Knowing that Haruka pursued doing what he loved most gave Makoto a rush of relief. 

He gave his best friend a big smile. “I’m so happy for you, Haru!” 

“Thank you.” 

Haruka’s eyes glinted under the soft afternoon light. Had it really been eight years since they last saw each other? It was only natural to see Haruka age, but he had aged in a way that suited him. He looked like he had gained more muscles from swimming competitively, his skin a few shades darker from traveling across warmer places. Despite those slight differences, Haruka had the same haircut from when they were children. He still wore loose clothes like he was always ready to strip them off and jump into a pool. The faint scent of chlorine still clung to him.  

Makoto must have been smiling for too long because Haruka whipped his head to the side, something he did every time he was embarrassed. Makoto’s cheeks burned up. He searched around the living room helplessly and found framed photos of him and his younger twin siblings, Ren and Ran. “The twins still ask about you sometimes.” 

“Oh,” Haruka blinked. “How are they?” 

“They’re doing very well,” he said. “They’re in high school now. They moved to Tokyo with our parents a couple of years ago. Still as lively and talkative as ever.” 

Haruka chuckled. “Do you visit Iwatobi often? How are your parents?”

“They’re okay,” said Makoto. “Dad got a job offer here, that’s why he and Mom and the twins moved. It’s great because we can see each other every weekend. We visit Iwatobi every summer.”

“I see.” 

“How long are you staying in Tokyo?”

“Maybe three more weeks,” replied Haruka. “I’ve already visited my parents in Osaka, so I’ll probably stay for a couple of days more after the tournament, then fly out.” 

Haruka’s phone chimed before Makoto could say something. He watched Haruka’s expressions change as he read the message— his eyebrows scrunching, his lips frowning, and his face gradually smoothening with indifference.  

“It’s Natsuya,” said Haruka, slipping his phone back to his pocket and taking a deep breath. “We rented a house with some other guys who are also joining the tournament, and they’re having crisis in the kitchen. Again.” 

He took another breath and searched Makoto’s face, letting another moment to pass before hesitantly saying, “I have to go.” 

“Oh, okay.” 

Haruka stood up. “Do you still see the others?” 

“Uh yeah,” he said, following Haruka to the door. “Nagisa and Rei moved to Tokyo too. I see them once in a while.” 

“I see. Maybe we can all hang out sometime before I go.” 

“Yeah, sure! I’ll let them know you’re here.” 

Haruka nodded and started putting his shoes on. Nikko rushed to his side, purring and nuzzling his shins, telling him not to leave. 

Makoto laughed. “Nikko, Haru has to go.” 

Haruka petted the white cat and gazed at Makoto wordlessly. 

He cleared his throat. “Haru,” he said. “Thank you again. For taking care of Nikko and bringing her back.” 

Haruka shrugged. “It’s nothing.” 

And without thinking, Makoto threw his arms around Haruka and hugged him so tightly that he felt his friend stiffen. “Sorry” he said, laughing nervously. How he wanted to kick himself.  _ Tachibana Makoto, what do you think you’re doing?! _ “I-I’m just so happy to see you again.” 

The words flew out of his mouth before he could catch them. Blush creeped up from his cheeks to the tips of his ears.  

“Me too,” Haruka told the floor. 

“H-Haru?” 

His friend looked at him and blinked a silent inquiry.  

Fists clenched, Makoto asked, “Are you free tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you wanna go out?”

“Okay.” 

Haruka fished his phone out of his pocket and asked for Makoto’s phone number. Then, he rang it so Makoto could save his. “There we go.” 

Makoto picked up Nikko in his arms and waved her arm at Haruka. “Bye, Haru!” 

“Bye. See you tomorrow.” 

Makoto smiled at him for the last time and closed the door. Leaning against it, he let his legs give in and melt to the floor. His skin tingled where it touched had Haruka. His cheeks and his ears were still warm and blushing. He heaved a long and heavy sigh, then pressed his phone to his lips. Warmth bloomed in his chest. Joy sparked to his fingertips. He felt eight years younger.  

Nikko meowed at him.  _ You’re grinning like an idiot. _


	2. when i run out of road, you bring me home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Makoto looked at Haruka like he was the sky and he was swimming in a river, lying on his back, floating, floating. Makoto's eyes were so bright, his smile pure and full of joy. Haruka hadn’t seen that look for years and for a moment, he forgot how to breathe._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"As for myself, I had a lot to say. But I was silent."_   
> 
> 
> \- Albert Camus

13,047,446.

Tokyo had 13,047,446 residents. When Haruka saw _MISSING_ signs about the cat that followed him to his rented apartment after swim practice, he told himself there was no need to worry. _Everything was fine._ He looked at the poster again and again and again, making sure this was the same white cat with lime green eyes, who purred sweetly and walked circles around his ankles.

Then, he read the text about the owner: _If found, please return to Tachibana Makoto,_ along with his phone number.

Tokyo had 13,047,446 residents and _Tachibana Makoto_ was a very common name. There were probably hundreds of men and women with that name, written in the same kanji characters: a nerdy, Veterinary medicine student, a dad with seven cat-loving children, or an old cat lady who’d lost track of how many cats she’d adopted.

Haruka walked back to the apartment with these thoughts spinning around his head like dares on a roulette until a dull ache sliced through his skull. With every heavy step he took, his soles dragging against the asphalt, he had a feeling he knew which _Tachibana Makoto_ it was, and he was definitely not an old cat lady.

_You look pale, Nanase. Is something wrong?_

He shook his head and waited for another day to ask his housemate to call _Tachibana Makoto_ and tell him _we found your cat, give me your address so I can bring her home_.

Haruka would never forget how his hands trembled upon ringing the doorbell, how he almost turned around and thought _this was a mistake I should have asked Mizuno to return the cat_ , but it was too late because the door had already opened and there stood _Tachibana Makoto—_ not a nerdy, Veterinary medicine student, nor a dad with cat-loving children, nor an old cat lady, but his childhood best friend— frozen in place, those forest green eyes, the ones he’d known for years, wide with shock.

Since the day he decided to enter the tournament in Tokyo, _Makoto’s Tokyo,_ he’d lie awake at night imagining an unexpected reunion with him. Of course, he did. The city might have 13,047,446 residents, 282 subway stations, and 23 wards, but he didn’t take away the possibility of a chance encounter. He imagined accidentally meeting him at a temple, lighting an incense while Haruka and his fellow athletes said their prayers, or at a coffee shop by the bay, reading a book and occasionally gazing at the water while it shimmered with the sun’s most brilliant, final colours.

He had imagined countless scenarios like this but none of them involved returning his lost, precious cat.

Haruka was proud of himself for maintaining his calm disposition as he talked to him, able to tease and joke lightly while keeping away from retracing their painful last memories together.

_I’m going to Tokyo._

The deafening _BOOM_ of fireworks, colours blooming in the night sky.

Breathlessness drowning Makoto’s apologies.

_Do what you want!_

The sound of his own voice and footsteps running far, far away, echoing in his ears.

He showed no sign of remembering as he sat next to Makoto, talking about his present life.

_His life without—_

He was close to giving himself a full mark until his childhood best friend decided to hug him and almost made him crumble like a butter cookie in a clenched fist.

_Are you free tomorrow?_ Makoto asked.

_Yeah._ Haruka replied on instinct.

_Do you wanna go out?_

_Okay._

And that was how Haruka found himself sitting on the top bench of Makoto’s local swim club the next day, watching him teach primary school kids how to swim with kickboards. He had finished training early this morning so he decided to visit Makoto at work and have lunch together.

Makoto looked up and waved at him, pulling him away from his thoughts. His smile promised, _I’ll be with you in a minute._  

Almost nothing had changed since he’d last seen Makoto coach children in their old swim club back in Iwatobi. His enthusiasm shone in the way he talked and guided children with their strokes. Only this time, he spoke more confidently and polished his teaching techniques, completely owning the class.   

By the end of their morning session, Makoto congratulated everyone for a job well done, giving each of them a high-five. His class of six children gave him one last look, waving before going out the door, eager to tell their waiting parents how their swimming class went.

“Goodbye, Tachibana-kouchi! See you on Friday!” They said in unison, big smiles and high-pitched voices despite their exhaustion.

 

* * *

 

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Haru,” said Makoto after showering. His light brown hair was more tousled from being blow-dried, and the hood of his parka hung lopsided from his broad shoulders. He had his backpack on, ready for their lunch out.

“Don’t worry about it. We finished training early today.” Haruka handed him a foam cup. “I got you _hojicha_ on the way here.”

“Ah, thank you, Haru!” Makoto accepted it with a wide grin, tilting his head to the side.  

“It’s nothing.” Haruka turned his head to the side. There was no need to make a big deal out of it. He just happened to remember Makoto liked hot roasted tea while he was on his post-training tea run.  

“Shall we go?” asked Makoto.

Haruka nodded and followed him outside the swim club. The late-winter wind swept across the neighbourhood. People rushed to their destinations, digging their hands deep in their coat pockets, exhaling foggy breaths.

“You know, it’s been a while since I’ve been to Tsukiji,” said Makoto, gazing up at the grey sky. “I think the last time I visited was last year, when a friend asked me to show her around.”

Haruka raised an eyebrow. “You should visit more often to eat the best kinds of fish.”

Makoto chuckled. “You’re right.”

Even at midday, this part of the city was engulfed in silence. The only sounds Haruka could hear were their footsteps hitting the pavement and the cars passing. He sipped his tea. “Your students seemed to enjoy the class a lot.”

He watched as Makoto’s face blushed. “Ah, yeah. I enjoy teaching them too,” he said. “They start out very shy and clingy, kind of reminding me of how I was when we were kids.”

A smile eased itself into Haruka’s lips.

“Some of them would throw tantrums for the first couple of meetings, then after a few more, they would get comfortable and would surprise me by swimming across the pool with little to no support,” said Makoto. “Remember Kisumi’s brother, Hayato?”

Haruka nodded. The names took him back to the time Makoto was helping Coach Sasabe at their childhood swim club. He remembered Makoto asking him for advice because he was at a loss. Hayato still _hated_ swimming despite the techniques Makoto taught him.

“He struggled learning how to swim until I taught him how to swim backstroke so he would be less afraid, like what you suggested. At the end of it all, he came to me and said: _I’m not scared of swimming anymore! I had fun!”_ Makoto smiled fondly. _“_ I still hold on to his words even now. I remember him every time my new students tell me how they love swimming. I love seeing the joy in their cute little faces and the way they grow fond of swimming and the water. They all remind me of why I pursued this career in the first place.”

Haruka responded with silence. He was not sure what to say next. Makoto rarely poured his heart out like that to anyone, not even him. It was something the two of them shared for different reasons. Haruka preferred _showing_ more than _telling._ He wouldn’t say _thank you_ when someone did him a huge favour; instead, he would gift the person something they adored. Makoto, on the other hand, naturally preferred keeping conversations as light-hearted as possible. He couldn’t trust himself to express his deep thoughts in front of other people, a trait he took with him from his childhood, when he was painfully shy.

This time, however, Makoto let his heart speak and Haruka should honour it with a response.

“That’s—” He tested his voice, and then he took a deep breath, willing his mouth to spill the words. “That’s incredible, Makoto. Really… I— I’m so glad to hear you’re living your dream.”

Makoto, who was staring at his shoes, raised his head to meet Haruka’s gaze, his eyes brightening. His expression changed from solemn, to surprised, and to the look he had when he heard about how Haruka was pursuing his own passion overseas.

“I started coaching kids for competitions too. Thought about stepping it up a bit,” continued Makoto, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’ve also considered training to become a coach to professional swimmers, but maybe some other time. I love teaching children for now.”

“I see,” replied Haruka, tapping his fingers against his foam cup that was quickly losing its warmth.  

They continued walking to the train station in companionable silence. Haruka caught himself holding his breath when Makoto got a bit too close, their arms brushing. It felt so strange and familiar at the same time. He thought about Iwatobi, when they used to spend each day of the year together, how they used to walk very close to each other along the seashore at sunset, talking about so many things, from the remarkable to the mundane.

Walking beside each other in the streets of Tokyo, holding foam cups of tea, and talking about life made him feel the same way he felt when listening to a song he hadn’t heard for years, surprising him when he still knew every word.

The train arrived as they fell into a neat line behind the other expecting passengers.

“We’re just in time,” said Makoto, grinning with amusement.

“Yeah.”

Together, they boarded the train to Tsukiji.  

 

* * *

 

“It’s snowing,” remarked Makoto once they climbed out of the station. He tilted his head up, watching the sky with childish wonder. “You know, it’s rare for Tokyo to get snow. We probably get it one or two days a year.”  

“Oh,” said Haruka, blinking. He watched the snowflakes fall on Makoto’s sandy brown hair, sprinkling all over the faux fur of his hood, creating a galaxy of stars on his black parka.

The wind blew, causing a shiver to run down his body.

“Should we use an umbrella? I have one in my bag,” asked Makoto, face lined with worry.

“It’s fine, really. Thanks,” replied Haruka. “It’s just a little snowfall. I want to feel it in my face.”

Makoto exhaled a soft laugh, _If you’re sure_.

They strolled along the Outer Market, following the tide of visitors along the open space with their hands buried deep inside their pockets and half of their faces under woollen scarves. Haruka took his time observing all the different kinds of seafood and street food sold in the stalls— giant oysters, fatty tuna bowls, crab fish cake sticks, and eel skewers— pausing from time to time.

“Is there anything in particular that you want to try?” asked Makoto.

“Yeah. I wanna try a sea urchin steamed bun.” Haruka pulled his phone out of his pocket to show Makoto some pictures.

Makoto hummed. “Okay, Haru.”

The two of them found the stall after asking around and got one bun each. Still steaming hot, the buns were big enough to fit and warm their freezing hands. They took a bite at the same time, sighing with delight as the flavours hit their tongues.

“Wow, this is so delicious!” Makoto said, his face glowing. He paused to find the words to describe the experience he was having, and failed, so he sighed again.

It was nothing Haruka had tasted before. The sea urchin cream in the centre was so soft, he could feel it melting in his mouth. The sea salt flavour in it was strong, but the squid ink-flavoured bun helped give it a mild taste.

They finished their buns with a couple more bites, savouring the mix of textures and flavours.

“Good find!”

The corners of Makoto’s eyes crinkled when he smiled. The squid ink bun had stained his teeth black, and Haruka couldn’t stop himself from giving him a close-mouthed smile.

Makoto blinked, suddenly self-conscious. “What?”

Haruka pointed to his own teeth.

“Ah!”

A deep shade of red coloured Makoto’s face. He covered his mouth with his hand while he ran his tongue in front of his teeth. Haruka did the same for good measure.

The two of them shared a laugh after it was all over.

“There,” said Makoto, flashing his perfectly-aligned teeth. “Is it gone?”

Haruka nodded, still smiling.

Makoto sighed a misty breath.

After that, they wandered aimlessly around the area until they decided to look for a restaurant where they could have a proper sushi meal.

“Look, Haru,” said Makoto, pointing at a massive fish head outside a sushi restaurant, inviting customers inside. It was bigger than their heads combined, its steely eyes round, its mouth open.

Eyes wide with awe, Haruka let out a tiny gasp. “Let’s eat here.”

Makoto chuckled. “Okay.”

The staff led them to the less crowded area upstairs. While waiting for their sashimi bowls, Haruka told Makoto about the time he went diving for sea urchin in Chile and how his host family made fresh salad out of it. He got stung countless times out of inexperience, but mostly because of his impatience to dig in. Makoto asked more about his misadventures abroad, listening attentively, while resting his chin on his hand, eyes wide with wonder. _That’s awesome, Haru._

Haruka watched Makoto too as he talked. Sitting opposite him under the fluorescent lights, he could observe him better. Twenty-six suited him very well. He’d grown into his figure, had gotten broader and taller, maintaining the same height difference with Haruka all these years. His features were more chiselled, cheekbones stronger, jawline more prominent.

If they didn’t grow up together, Haruka wouldn’t believe he was the shy little boy who stumbled on sandcastles and cried loudly when he scratched his knees. He had fully emerged into adulthood, understandably more reserved and refined, but still radiated the warmth that Haruka knew he had, looking at people with his soft and droopy eyes and gentle smiles.

“Tachibana?” An unfamiliar voice called across the room.  

Makoto whipped his head to the direction of the voice and squinted to recognise the face. “Watanabe?”

“Yeah, it’s me!”

A lanky man in his mid-twenties wearing loose clothing squeezed into the narrow space in between tables to reach Haruka and Makoto. Bumping his fist against Makoto’s, he said, “Long time no see!”

“Yeah, it’s been a while, isn’t it?” said Makoto. He gestured across the table. “Oh, this is my childhood friend, Nanase Haruka.”

“Watanabe Ryunosuke,” said the stranger. “Makoto’s university friend. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” replied Haruka.  

Watanabe looked down from the stairs and announced, “Hey guys, look who’s here!”

More voices murmured among themselves, intrigued. Their footsteps echoed in the hall until two ladies and another guy came into view and went straight to Makoto to greet him. At first glance, Haruka could tell they were corporate people with how they wore their nice dark trench coats and kept their hair sleek and ordinary, like any other salarymen and salary women.

“Tachibana!”

“It’s been too long!”

“Fancy seeing you here in Tsukiji.”

“Ah, I’m showing my friend around,” said Makoto, smiling at Haruka. “We go way back in Iwatobi, you know, where I grew up.”

The corporate guy gave them an amused look. “Wow. You must know each other very well!”

Makoto let out a sheepish laugh, his cheeks going red. “Y-Yeah, you can say that.”

He loosened up a little once his friends told him what they had been up to, relaxing in his seat and making small talk. Gone was the painfully shy little boy who always tugged at Haruka’s shirt because he didn’t know how to talk to kids he’d never met before.

Haruka tuned out their conversation, only having to feign interest from time to time. He let his mind wander back to Makoto’s apartment while they talked yesterday, for the first time in eight years. Some things stayed the same, like how his house smelled like oranges. Whenever he thought about the Tachibana home in Iwatobi, he would always remember Mrs. Tachibana bringing them oranges while they played video games or did homework in Makoto’s room especially at this time of the year.

Haruka had a good look around Makoto’s apartment while he was in the toilet, trying to find out what he missed out during his absence. Nostalgia danced in his chest when he saw their old relay photos, from grade school, middle school, and the last one in high school. Next to it were photos of the children Makoto taught at work. There was also one of him with Kisumi and Asahi, whom he seemed to have reconnected with in university.  

Then there was the wall of photos with his other university friends. They laughed, made goofy faces, and clung to him. A boy who wore a feathery jacket and a flowing black skirt, a girl with blue hair and no shoes, a blue-eyed foreigner with lots of facial piercings, making the _peace_ sign with a very huge grin. None of them looked familiar to Haruka except for Kisumi and Asahi.

Not far from them were postcards with lots of hearts and _xoxo_ in untidy scrawls. European cathedrals, American skyscrapers, and an Indian flea market that Haruka visited last month. A lot of them described the incredible places they’d visited and how their day went, some more affectionate than others: _I miss you_ , _I can’t wait to see you again._ Some of them were in English, leaving a bitter taste in Haruka’s mouth.  

Makoto’s university friends wrapped up their quick conversation when another colleague called and told them they were at the wrong restaurant.

“—We went snowboarding in Niigata last week—”

“—We’re going to Seoul next month—”

“—You should come with us!—”

“—Yeah, we’ve missed you—”

One of the ladies, whose name already escaped Haruka’s mind, gave Makoto a playful shove and kicked-puppy eyes. “You don’t message us anymore.”

Haruka tightened his grip around his chopsticks.

“Ah, I’m sorry. I’ve been busy,” said Makoto, scratching his head.

“That’s why you have to come with us to Korea,” said Corporate Lady Number Two.  

Makoto gave them an apologetic grin. “I’ll have to see my schedule.”

“Oh, come on, Tachibana. Have some fun from time to time,” said Watanabe. He gathered his oversized coat, preparing to leave with the rest of his friends. He winked. “I’ll message you next week.”

“Okay.”

Makoto heaved a breath after all his university friends left.

“I’m sorry about that,” he told Haruka, picking on his half-finished sashimi bowl.  

“It’s okay,” replied Haruka. “Where do you want to go next?”

After lunch, the two of them walked around Tsukiji in silence. It was still snowing a little bit, but the afternoon crowd had already left. Since Makoto was off for the rest of the day, he suggested they go to Odaiba, which was not too far away, to see the Rainbow Bridge and people-watch until sunset. Haruka doubted the sky would be as colourful in the summer, but he’d like to be by the sea and admire the calm waves.

Makoto was about to say something when a couple of foreigners with golden hair and black puffer jackets approached them.

“Uh, excuse me,” said the guy in English, phone in hand. “Do you know where Tsukiji Station is? _Tsukiji Station?”_

He said it very slowly, making sure they understood his words. Other people could have been confused with the way he stretched out the vowels in ‘Tsukiji’ like _Choo-kee-jee_ , but Haruka understood perfectly.      

While Makoto was panicking to construct sentences in his head, Haruka pointed his finger and replied calmly, “Just walk straight ahead then turn left.”

The foreigner’s face brightened with relief for getting the answer he needed. “Oh okay. Thanks, man!”

“No problem.”

Once the couple went on their way to the station, Makoto was looking at Haruka like he had collected all the stars in the Milky Way and kept them in a glass jar.

“You can speak English fluently,” he said, staring at him in surprise. “Wow, I don’t think I’ve spoken it since university days. Never needed to use it. I mean, I had some foreign students at the swim club, but they spoke fluent Nihongo, but yeah…”

Haruka frowned. “Well, I had to learn it to survive.”

He remembered how difficult it was to learn the foreign language intensively at 18, how alone it made him feel to live in a country that didn’t speak the only language he knew, making him ponder _why did I even decide to leave Japan?_ But he thought about his newfound dream, how much he’d like to experience the international stage of swimming, to be _a part of it,_ so he spent hours and hours taking lessons when he was in America. When he left, he continued learning, watching Youtube clips and Netflix movies late at night until he fell asleep, practicing and exchanging travel stories with people he met on the road.

“You speak it like a native! You even got the accent, you know, like in American movies,” said Makoto. “Wow. Haru is good at everything he does.”

The look on Makoto’s face brought Haruka back to the times he’d won his freestyle races in primary school, every time people watch the prodigy with awe, praising him, and Makoto beaming at his best friend with pride.

He turned his head away. “Natsuya-senpai keeps nagging me to practice and speak more. He’s so bossy, I understand why Ikuya doesn’t want to be around him.”

Makoto laughed light-heartedly. “Natsuya-senpai will be Natsuya-senpai, I guess.”

Haruka shrugged.

“Hey I got the tickets for Ghibli Museum tomorrow, by the way.”

When Makoto asked him yesterday which places he wanted to see around Tokyo, Haruka mentioned he wanted to go to Ghibli Museum, but he wasn’t able to book a ticket in advance.

Haruka had been fascinated about Studio Ghibli films since he was a child, and Makoto knew it more than anyone. He was drawn into the quirky characters and how folklore was weaved into each of the movie’s storylines. He loved the films so much, he dared to dream about becoming an animator when he was in high school, but in the end, he didn’t believe he could make it.  

Makoto said he could get tickets even with a short notice because he had a friend who worked there. He listened while Makoto told him about the time he took Ren and Ran there when he got his first full-time salary, vividly describing the exhibits. _You’re gonna love it, for sure!_ The excitement in Haruka’s face must have been very obvious because Makoto laughed the way he did whenever Haruka showed the slightest enthusiasm about _anything._  

“Are you sure it’s okay?” said Haruka. “I don’t want to impose.”

Makoto shook his head. “I have a lot of vacation leave this year, don’t worry about it.”

“If you say so.”

Makoto fished his phone out of his pocket, feeling it vibrate.

“Good news,” he said. “Rei said he and Nagisa can have dinner with us tomorrow night!”  

Haruka gave him a faint smile. “I’m glad. I haven’t heard from them for years,” he said. “Natsuya-senpai said he wants to see you. I think he’s planning a hotpot night with Nao-senpai.”

Makoto grinned. “I’d like that. I don’t think I’ve seen them since they graduated from middle school.”

Haruka fiddled with the zipper of his coat, listening to the echo of their footsteps hitting the wet pavement. “Have you heard anything from Rin lately? He’d been bothering me since I got here in Tokyo.”

Humming, Makoto answered, “He asked me if I wanted to go to Kamakura with him and Sousuke, visit some temples and eat seafood, maybe.”

“Me too, actually.”

“Are you coming?”

“Yes.”

“Cool. I haven’t been there in a while.”

“I’ve literally never been there before.”

“It’s pretty popular amongst tourists, but is still very peaceful. It has a lot of ancient temples and good food. I think you’ll like it,” said Makoto.

Haruka nodded. “Time to see some old friends, huh?”

Makoto looked at Haruka like he was the sky and he was swimming in a river, lying on his back, floating, floating. Makoto's eyes were so bright, his smile pure and full of joy. Haruka hadn’t seen that look for years and for a moment, he forgot how to breathe.

He distracted himself by thinking about meeting Nagisa and Rei, Rin and Sousuke, and their two _senpai_ Natsuya and Nao. It would be like old times. _Would it be, though? After all this time?_ A rush of excitement washed over him as his stomach formed little knots.

Then, he gazed at Makoto again, and he told himself, _yes it would be like old times._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's something to feast on while i work on the next chapters.
> 
> have i ever told you guys i visited Japan while writing this fic? good times. my mind really hasn’t really returned from that trip tbh. i think it will stay there for a while. writing this helped me deal with the post-vacation blues. <3 
> 
> which social media sites are you on? you can find me on [Tumblr](http://nanases-h.tumblr.com) & [Twitter](https://twitter.com/nanases_h) (it’s a bit lonely there and I’d like to make some friends uwu). we can chat about MH or anything under the sun! 
> 
> also, i’ve made a [Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/user/elliceium/playlist/2ULXz9EB0a6mo6ImoG2Loj?si=mhtpro-CSFu5c51Se4zIzw) playlist for all the songs that helped me write this story. 
> 
> what do you think about Haru and Makoto’s non-first date? what do you guys expect to see next? double dates with ReiGisa, NatsuNao, and SouRin, maybe? we don’t know! feed my ego. validate me. please? otherwise, i’ll see you next update!


	3. and my heart is playing hide and seek

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haruka and Makoto catch up with Nagisa and Rei over dinner, observing what changed and what didn't over the last eight years. As the night goes on, Haruka realises how good it feels to be home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"I always think about you and how we don't speak[enough."](https://open.spotify.com/track/5kRPPEWFJIMox5qIkQkiz5?si=MJAXjVabSA-91snrSmNLpA)_

Every time Haruka took the train, it always took him back to his first memories of Tokyo. He’d been to the city before. His parents used to bring him along when he was a child, but those times were a distant haze, a blur of colours, to him now.

When he first stepped in Tokyo Station a week ago, just when the trains were about to stop operating for the night, he was aware of the strong tide of _shinkansen_ passengers rushing from different parts of the country. Nobody ever stopped walking. The stench of alcohol clung to salarymen coming home after a long day of work and drinking with colleagues. The shops had long since closed, shutters down and hiding behind protective nets.

The scene wasn’t any different in Shinjuku Station as he and Makoto tried to find their way to an _izakaya_ to meet Nagisa and Rei, except they had been in train stations far too long because they kept taking the wrong trains together.

“We didn’t have to deal with this in Iwatobi!” whined Makoto, his eyebrows drawn together in frustration.

Thankfully, they didn’t have to deal with this when they went to Tsukiji, Ghibli Museum, or any other places they had been since yesterday, or else, they would have wasted their time train-hopping. Their luck must have run out this time around.

They stepped out of what seemed to be their fourth train that evening. Haruka had insisted on navigating with his own map application in their last train station to finally put Makoto at ease.

“I’ve been living in Tokyo for eight years and I still haven’t gotten the hang of riding trains. This is so embarrassing.” Makoto shook his head while laughing with disbelief. “I’m sorry, Haru.”

“It’s alright,” replied Haruka, stepping on the escalator that would carry them out of the platform. “We made it.”

Rush hour had taken over Shinjuku Station. People flowed in and out of the halls in a quick rhythm, heading straight to their own destinations, whether to the platforms or the concrete jungle outside the station. Nagisa and Rei were already waiting for them at the entrance. Their faces lit up upon recognising Haruka and Makoto in the whirlwind of crowds.   

“Hey guys! Sorry to keep you waiting!” said Makoto, scratching his head in embarrassment.

“It’s okay, Makoto-senpai. We didn’t wait long,” replied Rei.

“Haru-chan!” said Nagisa.

Haruka prepared himself to be tackled into a big hug, but it didn’t come. Instead, Nagisa only flashed a broad grin. “Long time no see!”

“Yeah, long time no see.”

“We’re very happy to see you again, Haruka-senpai,” Rei said with a polite smile.

He still wore red glasses like in high school. Corporate look fitted him perfectly, his silk tie in a neat knot and his posture straight like he always meant business.  

“Thank you for meeting me tonight,” said Haruka. “Shall we?”  

“Let’s go,” said Nagisa, without the usual bounce in his step.

Something about him felt out-of-place for Haruka. It wasn’t the laid-back way he carried himself or the bright yellow parka that stood out in Tokyo’s black-uniformed locals. Maybe it took some time for him to warm up again, giving his usual cheery remarks or casual jokes, because he hadn’t seen Haruka since they parted ways in high school.

Something in the back of Haruka’s mind told him perhaps it was how adulthood had shaped him. He reminded Haruka of a mural painting he’d seen in Spain: larger than life and once had vivid colours that had faded in time. The thought put a concerned frown in Haruka’s face.

The four of them walked in silence, tracing Shinjuku’s narrow, winding alleys. Lanterns and blinking lights shone like stars in the night sky. The cold February wind blew, sending shivers to their skins, and their hands buried deep into their pockets.  

They sighed with relief as they hurried inside the _izakaya_ , stepping into a boxed world of shared dishes and cigarette smoke. Once they had located their reserved table and shed off their coats, Haruka let Nagisa, Rei, and Makoto order their food. He sat in silence as the three of them looked at the menu, pointed at the dishes they wanted him to try, their specialties, one of this, two plates of that, and _don’t forget the grilled mackerel_. Nagisa called the waiter and pointed at the menu, ordering rapid-fire, finishing with a smile at Haruka and the familiar glint in those magenta eyes.

Not long after, the food started streaming in. Most of them were _yakitori_ of various kinds— chicken meatballs, green pepper with cheese, and many others that Haruka couldn’t recognise. They also had egg omelette, topped with mayonnaise and cheese. Smoke wafted across their table, signalling the arrival of his grilled mackerel. Clapping their hands once, they gave thanks and dug in.  

Haruka sighed audibly, pleased with the taste of the juicy, savoury _yakitori_ in his mouth. It was a flavour that he could only taste here at home. “This is so good!”

“Haru-chan, have you been eating well abroad?” Across him, Nagisa was shoving food on Rei’s plate. “What kind of food do you eat? Do you still cook?”

“Nagisa, that’s too mu— ahh!”

“Ahh sorry, Rei-chan.”

Makoto laughed beside him.

“I cook sometimes,” said Haruka. “I travel with a _senpai_ from middle school. We meet Japanese swimmers along the way and we cook  Japanese food when we can. Well, _I_ do most of the cooking, really. But nothing beats the food here at home.”

“You’re as diligent as ever, Haruka-senpai,” said Rei. “What is it like living abroad?”  

“Normal.” Haruka shrugged. “It was strange at first. The cars driving on the other side of the road, people making small talk all the time, being more opinionated in general, and less punctual. I got used to it I guess.”

“Wow, that’s awesome, Haru-chan,” said Nagisa, pinching a piece of egg omelette between his chopsticks. “And what did you miss the most? Did you miss home at all?”

The question was forgotten the next moment as the tap beer came, saving Haruka from an answer he was not prepared to make.

They shared a toast and chorused, _“Kanpai!”_

Slamming his beer glass on the table after a big gulp, Nagisa nibbled on his _yakitori_ and fired away with his next questions. “When did you come back? Did you visit other cities before Tokyo?”

“I got here about two weeks ago, I think,” replied Haruka. “I visited my parents in Osaka, then spent a week in Kyoto. And met some deer in Nara.”

Nagisa’s eyes widened. “Did you? Were they cute? They’re free to roam around the city, aren’t they?”

Haruka nodded. “They were really cute, especially the babies. I fed them some deer cookies too.”

Nagisa gasped and tugged at Rei’s sleeve. “Rei-chan, we have to see the deer too!”

He kept his questions coming, feeding his curiosity about Haruka’s life overseas while munching on the food on the table. Rei interrupted him occasionally to ask for more details. All that time, Haruka quietly observed Makoto who preferred to listen, sometimes laughing softly at their friends’ hilarious remarks, and stacking finished _yakitori_ sticks on the short glass in the middle of the table.

They talked and laughed and kept ordering tall glasses of tap beer. Haruka felt warmer, beads of sweat forming on the bridge of his nose, his ears and his cheeks heating up from the alcohol burning down his throat and seeing the patrons huddled close in their small tables.  

At some point, he got tired of talking and tuned out Nagisa and Rei’s light chatter. He listened to the loud conversations surrounding them, his mind drifting to their neighbours sharing a toast and congratulating each other for a job well done, to the echoes of _kanpai_ , to the slamming beer glasses on wooden tables. To the flash of green eyes and a gentle smile a few inches away.

“Are you okay, Haru?” Makoto asked in a low voice that only two of them could hear.

“Y-Yeah.”

Haruka turned his attention to Nagisa and Rei who called the waiter to order deep-fried eel.

“So, uh, Rei,” he said. “You work as an accountant?”

Rei was lightly puzzled by suddenly being under the spotlight. He cleared his throat. “Y-Yes. I’m a legal accountant at a law firm in Chiyoda.”  

“Rei-chan’s been working _veeery_ long hours and he’s now in line for promotion.” Nagisa beamed proudly.  

“Ah, that’s great. Well done, Rei!” exclaimed Makoto.

Haruka nodded. “And how about you, Nagisa?”   

“I’m always free these days,” he said, grinning and scratching his head. “I quit my job because I didn’t like the boss. Rei-chan had been very nice to let me crash in his place.” He nudged Rei’s shoulder with his head. “I’ll pay you my rent share as soon as I get another job. Don’t worry!”

Rei huffed with impatience like they’d talked about this over and over. “I keep telling you, you don’t have to worry about what your parents say. I’m happy to support you.”

“Does this mean you’ll buy me a box of cream puffs every day after work?”

Rei rolled his eyes.

A faint smile graced Haruka’s lips. He didn’t have to look under the table to see their hands intertwined.

Makoto laughed and met Haruka’s eyes. _They haven’t changed, have they?_

“Anyway!” Nagisa turned to Makoto across him, startling his _senpai_ a little bit. “Mako-chan, you found your cat!”

“Uh y-yeah.”

“Mako-chan had been very sad and worried when he lost Nikko-chan so Rei-chan and I helped look for her,” Nagisa told Haruka. “And Haru-chan found her! That’s so cool! It must be serendipity!”

“Nagisa,” muttered Rei, elbowing him.

“Dessert, anyone?” asked Makoto, perhaps a little too loudly. He grappled the menu from across the table. “Let’s see… They have ice cream… You like strawberry ice cream, don’t you, Nagisa?”

Half an hour later, they finished all the food and paid for the bill. The other patrons had packed up, easing themselves in between the backs of the chairs and saying _goodbye_ and _see you tomorrow_.

“Ahh I’m so full!” said Rei, rubbing circles on his stomach.

“What do you guys want to do now?” asked Makoto.

Nagisa thought about it for a second, cocking his head to the side.

“We can go home,” he said, then, his magenta eyes gleamed. “Or party until the train starts operating in the morning!”

“Don’t be silly, Nagisa,” replied Rei. “Haruka-senpai has training and Makoto-senpai has work tomorrow.”

“I’m just kidding!” said Nagisa. “But really, we should do it one time. It’s Haru-chan’s first time in Tokyo with us, so we deserve to have some fun!”

“Haruka-senpai, you don’t have to say yes if you don’t want to.”

Makoto gazed at him, waiting for his answer.

“That’s okay with me,” said Haruka. “I haven’t seen you guys in eight years. Tell me what you’ve been up to. Show me around Tokyo.”

Nagisa’s face glowed like Shinjuku’s lantern-lit streets and launched into his spiel of places to take Haruka for the night. Rei shared his own suggestions too, and together, they planned their itinerary.  

“Let’s hop into another pub or a nightclub—”

“Then, we can hit the arcades—”

“Or we can go to a sushi bar! I know a place that’s open 24/7—”

Makoto let out an amused laugh. “They’re so happy to see you.”

“I’m happy to be with everyone too.”

Haruka smiled, but didn’t let it linger. They shouldn’t know his heart was too big for his chest at the moment, filled with nostalgia and excitement of youth. Memories of the four of them together flashed before his eyes— attending summer festivals, jogging in early spring, stargazing in the islands, driving fast with the windows down, Iwatobi in four seasons. He was right when he thought it would be like old times, except this time, they were prancing around Tokyo.

Coats on and scarves around their necks, they stepped out of the _izakaya_ , ready to face the winter winds with the promise of a late-night adventure.

Nagisa threw his arms in the air. “HARU-CHAN IS IN JAPAN!”

Haruka and Makoto, who were a few paces behind him and Rei, shared a laugh. In the dark, Haruka met Makoto’s gaze. Shadows and city lights painted his smiling face, a spectrum of colours catching on the tip of his nose, to the ends of his lashes, making his eyes shine brighter.   

“It’s good to be home,” said Haruka.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> makoharu double date with reigisa! yay! what do you think about aged-up nagisa and rei? and did anything change between makoto and haru? did they break the ice yet or are they still awkward with each other? as usual, let me know what you think! i love reading your comments and they keep me writing! uwu
> 
> if anyone’s interested, i made a [ Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/elliceium/playlist/2ULXz9EB0a6mo6ImoG2Loj?si=49qWRXCNT_GV5K_3wa2_qg) for this fic. 
> 
> and if you ever want to chat with me, you can find me here: 
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/nanases_h)
> 
> [Tumblr](http://nanases-h.tumblr.com)
> 
> see you next update!


	4. we all need someone to stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natsuya tells Makoto how he and Haruka met on the road, and Rin pesters Haruka about joining the national team.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _“I care for you still and I will[ forever.](https://open.spotify.com/track/2LMkwUfqC6S6s6qDVlEuzV?si=Poxe7p9TSBmt8Ne0-fJjuA) That was my part of the deal."_

The next time Haruka and Makoto went to an _izakaya_ , they were meeting their middle-school _senpai_ , Natsuya and Nao. They were already sharing a plate of grilled squid, four empty beer glasses pushed to the side of their table. When Natsuya saw them approaching, he crossed his arms with impatience.

“You’re late,” he said, frowning at Haruka.

Haruka blinked. “You said we should meet at 7 p.m.”

“I texted you earlier. I said we should meet at 6:30 instead.”

“My phone’s on _Do Not Disturb._ ”

Groaning, Natsuya lamented, “This kid is hopeless.”

“Enough of that,” said Nao. “Come sit with us, Haruka, Makoto.”

“It’s so nice to see you again, Nao-senpai, Natsuya-senpai,” said Makoto, taking the empty seat beside Nao. “It’s been so long!”

“Yeah, it has been.” Nao rested his chin on his hand, regarding Haruka and Makoto with bright green eyes and a smile that always seemed to bring a sense of calm and comfort.  

“Let’s order hotpot, shall we?” Natsuya asked after taking a big gulp of his tap beer.

“Yes,” the three of them chorused.  

The staff immediately took their orders, including their drinks, and hurried back to the kitchen. This _izakaya_ was unbelievably tinier than the one they visited with Nagisa and Rei, but it was less busy, so it didn’t bother Haruka that their table was tucked in a corner.

“Look at you two! You sure have grown a lot, especially Makoto,” said Nao. “How have you been?”

That made Makoto blush like every time one of his mother’s friends complimented him. _The last time I saw you, you were_ this _small and clinging tightly to your mother. What a handsome young man you are now!_ He never did learn how to respond to those comments without stuttering.

“G-Good,” replied Makoto. “I— uh— I coach children at the swim club in my neighbourhood.”

“How do you like it?”

“I really enjoy it a lot. The kids learn pretty quickly and are always excited to show off their new skills. They’re adorable.”

“I’m very glad to hear that,” said Nao, grinning. “And Haruka, how have you been?”

Haruka wanted to squirm in his seat. Every time people called him his first name was a stab in the chest. He never learned to love it, no matter how many times people said it was beautiful. It sounded strange to his ears like it belonged to someone else. Too feminine, too different _._ He’d corrected Natsuya over and over, but his _senpai_ was cruel and relentless. In middle school, Haruka insisted he called him ‘Nanase’, but his _senpai_ said the swim club was on a first name basis. When they started traveling together, he told him to address him as ‘Haru’, but all he did was raise an eyebrow and say, _it’s not your real name, is it?_ It was a losing battle and Haruka knew better now that there was no point in asserting his preferences to his _senpai._

“Not so bad,” he said with a shrug.

“Natsuya sends some of your photos together and mentions you from time to time,” said Nao. “It looks like you finally found something you want to do.”

The corners of his lips curled slightly. “I did.”

The server brought the pot of broth and put the cover on to let it boil for a while. Natsuya hummed with excitement, saying how hungry he was. The plates of thinly-sliced Kobe beef and vegetables arrived soon after.

“Ugh, shiitake mushrooms.” Natsuya eyed the plate of mushrooms in disgust. “Never really liked them. I only ate them when Ikuya was around to set a good example.”

“What an awesome big brother,” teased Nao. He picked up his chopsticks to put the sliced cabbage and onion into the pot. The smell of broth wafted across the room, promising sweet and savoury bowls of soup to warm them up.

The server came back with their ordered drinks and left. Two tall glasses of tap beer for Natsuya and Nao, and a lemon sour for Makoto. Haruka frowned at the mojito in front of him.

“What’s wrong, Haru?” asked Makoto.

“They got it wrong.”

“Oh yeah, you changed it to a lemon sour too.” Makoto slid his glass across him, closer to Haruka. “Do you want to swap?”

Haruka looked up at him. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it’s okay, Haru.” Makoto smiled. “You can have mine.”

“Thanks.”

Haruka wondered why their two _senpai_ fell silent. Then, he found them sharing a knowing look, grinning.

Natsuya chuckled, “You still spoil him. Nothing has changed!”

Both of them ignored the comment. Makoto drummed his fingers on the table, pretending to be very interested in the stack of empty plates. Haruka whipped his head to the side, his face feeling hot, but not because of the steaming pot in front of him.

“Natsuya-senpai wouldn’t last another hour if he keeps drinking, you know,” Haruka told Nao.  

Nao laughed with amusement, his eyeglasses catching the low light. “Yeah, I kept telling him to slow down while we were waiting for you guys.”

“Hey, I’m not a lightweight!” Natsuya huffed. His cheeks and the tips of his ears already had a reddish tint on them. Unruly strands of auburn hair fell above his slightly hooded eyes.

“Whatever you say,” said Haruka. “I’m not dragging you back to the apartment.”

“Me neither,” replied Nao.

Natsuya rolled his long sleeves up to his elbows out of habit. Even in the winter, he kept his signature look. “I can take care of myself, thank you very much!”

“Ah I think the hotpot’s ready!” said Makoto.

The broth bubbled away in the built-in stove, letting out ribbons of steam. They scooped some soup in their little bowls, along with the vegetables and well-done pieces of beef. Flavours burst in Haruka’s mouth after he dipped the meat in _ponzu_ sauce. The citrusy soy sauce blended perfectly with the beef’s soft texture, making him want for more.

“How about you, Nao-senpai?” asked Makoto. “Did you ever go back to the swimming world?”

“I did, but not as a swimmer.” Nao took a sip of his tap beer. “I majored in Sports Medicine in university and coached kids after graduation, like you do. Then, I started training professional swimmers.”

Makoto’s eyes widened. “Wow, that’s awesome, Nao-senpai! Actually, I’m looking into that too, but I haven’t fully decided yet.”

“It’s very interesting especially for people with a nurturing personality like yourself,” said Nao. “Give it a try. I’ll give you my contact information if you need help with anything.”

“Thank you so much! I’ll keep in touch.”

“You’re gonna do great, Makoto,” said Natsuya, grinning from ear to ear. “I can tell!“

Makoto bowed his head at the compliment, blush slowly spreading across his cheeks. “Th-Thank you, Natsuya-senpai. I will do my best!”

Nao fixed his gaze on Haruka, who was sitting across from Makoto. “Haruka, how is it like to live abroad with Natsuya? He must be a handful, huh?”

“He’s a disaster,” replied Haruka in a heartbeat, munching on a carrot stick.  

“Hey, why are you two ganging up on me?” Natsuya pouted, his shoulders slumping. “I just missed being home! I missed having proper hotpot as much as I missed heated toilet seats.”

Nao scoffed. “Nice analogy.”

Unfazed by the comment, Natsuya continued, “I’ve mentioned this to Nao before, and I’ll say it again and again: heated toilet seats are the best! Once you’ve experienced them, you can never go back. I don’t understand how some countries don’t have them. Who would want to respond to nature’s call in a freezing cold toilet seat all winter?”  

It wasn’t hard to realise Natsuya was a talkative drunk before he could pass out from drinking too much. Well, Nao had probably figured it out a long time ago because they’d known each other since they were children. Haruka learned it the hard way, from all those long nights of bar-hopping since they started traveling together. Makoto was being his usual accommodating self, nodding politely and giving little remarks.

The three of them let Natsuya tell his stories because they knew it was only a matter of time when he would start nodding off.

“Anyway, I’m really grateful I met Haruka on the road— no really, I am.” Natsuya’s words were starting to slur. “Do you guys know how we started traveling together? You know this already, Nao. I told you a million times already. Okay, I’ll tell Makoto…”

Haruka opened his mouth to distract Natsuya— Makoto didn’t need to hear the nonsense he was about to tell— but he was unstoppable.

“So we met in America during a swimming competition, maybe five or six years ago? I was so surprised to see him— Nanase Haruka, my kid brother’s friend, that prodigy from Iwatobi, so I invited him over for dinner. But the little shit didn’t tell me he had fever and he passed out in my living room!” said Natsuya. “I remembered how bad I had it when I first moved out of the country, all alone and no one to take care of me when I got sick. Haruka didn’t deserve to go through all of that, so I adopted him until he got better.”

“And then I found out what kinds of junk he’d been feeding himself, so I started cooking for him,” said Haruka, hoping that would close the conversation.

“Since then, we’ve been traveling together. For the most part,” continued Natsuya. “Well, sometimes we’d visit different countries and meet again when there’s a swimming competition. Haruka doesn’t come with me when I visit Japan, but I persuaded him this time around, yay!”

“Is this your first time coming back since you left?” Nao asked Haruka.

“Yeah.”

“Wow, that’s an awfully long time to be away from home.”

Haruka simply shrugged.

“He’s like Ikuya: never listens, always brooding in the corner…” Natsuya slung an arm around Haruka’s shoulders liked a doting big brother. “But I’m tremendously proud of this kid for getting this far.”

The moment Haruka feared the most came when Natsuya squinted his eyes at him. He knew that look, those eyes glinting slyly, lips curled into a smirk. He was thinking about an embarrassing story to tell everyone.  

“Do you know that he sometimes pretends to be mute to avoid socialising? That’s how much he hates people,” said Natsuya. “Don’t be deceived by that pretty little face. He’s a savage.” Then he snickered, tickled by a funny memory. “Oh my god, one time, we worked at a hostel in Brazil in exchange of lodging and Haruka was assigned at the bar. Obviously, you have to be charming and sociable to please the customers, but he just wasn’t into that. Girls and boys kept whispering amongst themselves, talking about him. They hung out at the bar, trying to make small talk and flirt but he just stared at them, frozen. God, he was so _awkward!_ ”

Makoto covered his mouth with his hand and fake-coughed, suppressing his laughter.

Haruka glared at Natsuya.

“Annoying,” he said, looking away.

* * *

A thousand shades of green surrounded Haruka. A forest of bamboo trees towered above him, whisking him away into a timeless world of moss-covered stone lanterns and birdsong. He watched the bleak winter light pass through the empty spaces between groves and leaves. He didn’t think such otherworldly sight existed near vibrant, bustling Tokyo until he came to Kamakura.

Girls in colourful kimonos walked along the narrow stone path, making their way to the tea house where Haruka, Makoto, Rin, and Sousuke sat side by side facing the bamboo garden.

Rin took a long sip of his _matcha_ and sighed happily. “Don’t you love it when you get to sit down and enjoy a cup of tea while looking out at a bamboo forest?”

Beside him, Sousuke gave him a long, amused look. “You sound like an old man who’s never taken a day off in his entire life.”

“Who is it who keeps complaining about back aches lately?”

“That was _one_ time, after we helped Kisumi and Asahi move in to their new house.”

“Whatever,” said Rin, then he turned to his right, facing Haruka and Makoto. “Anyway, I’m so glad you two can join us today. Makoto, I haven’t seen you in a while! You really should take a vacation and relax from time to time. And Haru, god, how long has it been since we last saw each other?”

“Three years,” replied Haruka. The rich, bittersweet taste of green tea lingered in his tongue and on the roof of his mouth.

“Had it really been that long?” Rin chuckled. “Wow. You were in Sydney for a race, weren’t you? That was before I decided to move back here for good.”

“Yeah, you dragged me around and went drinking in Newtown until we passed out in the gutter,” said Haruka. “I remember that vividly.”

Newtown was blaring music and flashing lights. Bodies sticky with sweat from bouncing and graceless dancing. Chugging hard liquor one after another. Laughing with strangers, meeting Rin’s Australian friends, arms pulling them close. _Stay for another drink._

“Good times!” Rin grinned, baring his sharp teeth. “To be fair, I was quite nervous about moving back to Japan. The thought of finally working my way up to the national team and taking the road to my dream _terrified_ me.”

“But everything fell into place,” said Makoto, fiddling with his tea cup. He smiled at Rin. “You did it.”

“I guess so.” Rin folded his arms behind his head. “We were just a bunch of kids who wanted to swim. Well, I might have taken it a bit more seriously. Crying when I lost, dreaming to swim in a pool full of cherry blossom petals. Ah, our glory days.”

“You always did have a dramatic flair. Oh wait, you still do.” Sousuke nudged his arm, his teal eyes glinting teasingly.  

Rin punched him on the shoulder. “You enjoyed it too, the pool of cherry blossom petals. Don’t deny it.”

“I did,” admitted Sousuke. He wrapped an arm around Rin and planted a kiss on his cheek.  

Rin’s face was immediately covered by a pinkish tint. He slapped Sousuke’s thigh, reminding him that they had company. He cleared his throat. “So Haru, when are you joining the national team?”

Haruka rolled his eyes. “Not that again.”

“Everyone in the team knows about you and they’d love it if you join us.”

“I told you: I swim when I want, wherever I want.”

Rin made a noise of protest on the back of his throat. “I know you love visiting foreign places and doing whatever you want in your own time, but don’t you think it’s time to step it up? We can’t stay the same forever, you know that.”

There was a beat of silence. A flash of guilt crossed Rin’s face as his eyes caught the pained look in Makoto’s eyes. He looked away in silent apology. “Just— Just think about it.”

Haruka blinked and watched the bamboo leaves dance with the wind, free to move in any direction.

“I like to think I can convince my swimmer friends to join the national team. Just like this one.” Rin poked Sousuke in the shoulder, the gold ring on his fourth finger catching light.

“It took a while though, with the surgery and everything,” said Sousuke.

“I pestered you every day until you got that damned surgery and finally joined the team,” said Rin.

“Yeah, you did.” A small smile lingered in Sousuke’s face. He gazed at Rin fondly before taking his hand that rested on his thigh, threading their fingers together.   

Rin and Sousuke. They weren’t _Rin_ or _Sousuke_ anymore, but _Rin_ and _Sousuke._ They laughed and cried and teased and fought each other throughout the years, but they chose to be together despite it all. To build a home with each other.

“I’ll think about it,” said Haruka.

Rin’s face brightened. “You promise?”

“Yeah.”

They finished their tea and rode their rented bicycles to the other tourist spots around Kamakura. Makoto and Rin navigated while Haruka and Sousuke trailed behind. _Let’s take it slow because we might lose Sousuke,_ teased Rin. They visited three more temples until they found the Great Buddha, Kamakura’s symbol. When they got hungry, they feasted on tempura, sashimi, and a variety of vegetables, which the city was famous for.

The four of them ended their day trip with a visit to the seaside. It was still too early, too cold to take a plunge, but Haruka was happy to watch the sunset. Unlike in Tokyo, the sky here glowed with brilliant colours. They sat on the shore, the winter breeze playing with their hair as they talked about dear old Iwatobi.

They made their way back to the train station after the sun sank in the horizon. Sitting across each other, they talked about how it was more convenient to take the train than to drive from and back to Tokyo.

Rin and Sousuke chatted softly until Rin fell asleep with his head on Sousuke’s shoulder. They held hands on the sliver of space between them, matching golden bands peeking out from interlaced fingers.   

Haruka rested his chin on his hand as he watched the twilight view outside the window. Makoto had given him the window seat, as usual. His eyelids were feeling heavy, fluttering. Sleep was sinking into him as well.

“Aw, Nikko,” cooed Makoto. He was swiping at his phone screen with a broad grin.

Haruka blinked sleepiness away to look at Nikko’s photos on Makoto’s phone. The adorable white cat was clawing at yarn strings, lying on a carpeted floor that didn’t look like Makoto’s. “Where is she?”

“At my neighbour’s. Mrs. Nakamura always takes care of Nikko when I’m away,” said Makoto. “Oh, I can’t wait to see this cute little fur ball again.”  

Haruka smiled in response.

“Do you wanna drop by my place?” asked Makoto, his hand curling around his phone a bit too tightly. “Nikko will be happy to see you. I mean, only if you want to. You don’t have to—”

Surprised by the sudden invitation, Haruka searched Makoto’s face as he rambled on. “Okay.”

“—Oh. Okay.” Makoto replied, drawing out a long and heavy breath. He grinned and put his phone back in his pocket before he could break it into half.

They didn’t say anything more. Haruka turned his attention back to the winding countryside view, face resting on his palm. They must have been halfway between Kamakura and Tokyo when a heavy weight fell on his shoulder.

“M-Makoto?” Despite Haruka’s shock, his voice was quiet. He doubted Makoto heard it.

His friend didn’t stir. Haruka looked around, checking if anyone could see their current state. Rin and Sousuke were both sleeping, leaning into each other. The old couple across the aisle were whispering amongst themselves. The ticket inspector was probably making rounds in the other train cars.

He sat up straight— gently, slowly— so Makoto’s neck wouldn’t hurt when he woke up, ignoring the ball of electricity bursting under his skin and the roaring of his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we’re about to get to the heart of it all. prepare yourselves!
> 
> and please keep the comments coming. see you next update. 
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	5. come home to my heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makoto blinked his eyes for a second and just like that, two weeks had passed and Haruka had only one week left in Japan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _“We were wild and fluorescent, come home to my[ heart.”](https://open.spotify.com/track/6K8VQ84MqhsoakN5MjrnVR?si=B1tx_P_yQ42OiKI1l4lZ9w)_

Makoto blinked at the strobe lights.

Red flashed blue flashed purple flashed orange quicker than his brain could catch up. He closed his eyes, breathing in a lungful of air and counting to five before slowly breathing out, trying to get rid of his light-headedness.

Time was a hurricane that swept away everyone and everything around him: the people whirling across the dance floor, the bartenders sliding drinks behind the counter, the music booming from gigantic speakers, the countless conversations encircling him.  

He blinked his eyes for a second and just like that, two weeks had passed and Haruka had only one week left in Japan.

It was Nagisa and Rei’s idea to go bar-hopping in Shinjuku again. This time, they were determined to party until the train would start operating again the next morning because they weren’t able to do it the first time they went out for dinner. When Makoto voiced out his concern about Haruka’s upcoming swimming competition, his response was a soft chuckle, _it’s not the Olympics, don’t worry about it._

Nursing his beer at the counter, Makoto fished his phone out of his pocket to look at the photos he’d taken earlier. He and Haruka met in Shibuya after his shift at the swim club, walking with the scramble of crowds and exploring its sprawling streets for hours.

They took the train to the bizarre, charming mess that was Harajuku and found a café famous for 3d latte art. Makoto took several photos of the adorable cat that was swimming in his coffee cup to lessen the guilt of destroying such delightful work of art (and he might have secretly taken photos of Haruka sipping his latte very carefully so he wouldn’t ruin Totoro’s foam form).

In between people-watching and companionable silence, Makoto took snaps of Haruka and himself. Regret might have prompted him. He hadn’t taken a lot of photos when they were still together, but it was mostly because of Haruka’s aversion of having his photos taken, always whipping his head to the side when faced by a camera.

Makoto expected him to behave the same way when he reluctantly asked for a shot as they were strolling along Yoyogi Park. To his surprise, Haruka stopped by his side and leaned closer until his face was only a few inches away from Makoto’s. He even smiled— the rare kind that reached his eyes— and let Makoto take as many photos as he wanted all throughout the day.

“You alright?” Haruka sat on the barstool beside him and ordered another Black Russian.

Makoto stopped swiping and put his phone back inside his pocket. He smiled sheepishly and nodded.

He looked around and found Nagisa twirling under Rei’s arm and beaming at a couple of strangers. Haruka sipped his drink and watched the balloon lanterns around the room. Strobe lights and hologram patterns fell upon his dark hair and turtleneck sweater, giving an image of a thousand galaxies shining across the universe.

“It’s a cool place, huh?” Haruka asked, cutting Makoto’s train of thought.

“Yeah. It’s a bit more… artistic than the bars I usually visit,” he replied.

“Japanese bars tend to be more cramped than Western bars, but that’s what makes them more charming… intimate. I like them.”

“Oh yeah, totally,” said one of the three foreign men sitting beside Haruka.

Makoto gave him a second glance when he realised he spoke in Nihongo. His accent was a bit lilted but easy enough to understand.  

All three of them were red-headed. At first, he thought they were siblings, but he noticed the lack of resemblance between them other than their hair colour and their eagerness to practice Nihongo.

Makoto chose to listen and let Haruka chat to them, finding it refreshing to see him less socially awkward. And he was actually engaging with them, giving opinions and asking follow-up questions. He didn’t give one-word answers anymore. Although to be fair, he only gave them to people who annoyed him, like that time in their senior year when they reunited with Kisumi.  

“We did Street-Kart in Akihabara today. It was awesome!”

“What else should we do?”

“Should we go see the Robot Show? Should we try the Maid Café?”

He’d heard these things repeatedly over the years that he’d started calling them the _Ultimate Tokyo Checklist for Tourists._ He’d heard them from his university friends, his friends’ friends, and the travellers he had dated briefly. He’d honestly considered printing out a list and giving it to his future visitors to help them accomplish their plans quicker. _Tokyo? Check._ _Next!_

The three men happily prattled about the most exciting and eccentric things they’d seen and done only in Japan. Haruka listened to their recap while downing one cocktail after another, surprising Makoto by how much he could drink. He supposed it was one of the ways travelling had changed him.   

He knew Haruka had a higher tolerance than him. He remembered the first time they went drinking one Friday night on their first year of high school. It was in Haruka’s house, where nobody would object to one of their underage exploits. Makoto had told his parents they would work on a joint project. He’d immediately regretted lying to his parents as he crouched over the toilet in the middle of the night, his stomach churning and his head pounding. He could still feel how gently Haruka pushed his hair away from his face while he threw up, rubbing circles on his back and fake-coughing to hide his laughter at the outcome of their stupid decision.  

“We’re wondering how we can sneak in a _katana_ in our backpacks.”

“We have three days left here.”

“We fly to Shanghai next.”

“How about you, Haru? When are you flying out?”

Makoto suddenly imagined himself sitting at the bottom of a pool as the conversation faded out like muffled sounds above the surface. The deep sounds blended in with the soft, ambient beats from the speakers until they were nothing but background noise. He sank into his seat, exhaustion putting weight on his eyelids, and nausea filling his gut.  

He mused about his and Haruka’s two weeks together instead. They’d been meeting every day, holding foam cups of hot coffee and casually talking while exploring Tokyo. Sometimes, they would take a stroll with Nikko around the neighbourhood. The white cat grew fonder of him, always asking to be petted and sitting attentively by the door the next day, knowing Haruka would arrive soon.

It was only two weeks ago when Haruka reappeared in his life and their routine seemed very familiar, like how natural it felt for Haruka to be by his side.

“Makoto-senpai.” Rei called him, signalling it was time to hop to their next bar. Nagisa leapt to his boyfriend’s side and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

He blinked. He didn’t notice when the three foreign men left the counter. The next thing he knew, Haruka was standing up and putting his trench coat on. He gazed at him, his blue eyes luminous in the low light. He tugged at the edge of Makoto’s sleeve.

“Let’s go, Makoto.”

* * *

 

He had no idea what Nagisa and Rei planned for the night, but he let the two of them drag him and Haruka to tick off their list, no matter how weird the items were. _We’ll make this a night you won’t forget!_

Their next stop was a karaoke bar where they drank sake and ate chips while Nagisa and Rei blasted bubblegum pop songs. Sometime while Rei was belting notes to an AKB48 hit, a group of friends with flashing teeth and brightly-coloured wigs stormed in their private room and danced with them. Naturally, Nagisa wouldn’t miss out on this opportunity to release chaotic energy and pulled Makoto and Haruka to the ‘dance floor’.

Makoto’s head was so hazy at this point, he almost felt like he was having an out-of-body experience, but he still found himself enjoying it.

A smile revealed itself in his lips as he met Haruka’s gaze across the room.

Nagisa, sweaty and tipsy Nagisa, nudged him in the ribs and leaned close to his ear. “I haven’t seen you smile like that in eight years.”

A blush crept across his cheeks, up to the shells of his ears. He didn’t know what to say.   

They left the karaoke place after a handful of songs, skipping to their next bar. If his head wasn’t clouded with alcohol, he could have told Rei, Nagisa, and Haruka not to go deep into these narrow and shady alleys of Shinjuku because of their reputation for having small pockets of danger.  

His suspicions were proven correct when Nagisa stumbled and bumped into a heavy-built man, too caught up telling his story about a man who was dressed up as a unicorn in Pub #3. The heavy-built man was handing a stick-thin, androgynous-looking person a clear packet of suspicious substance, which he dropped when Nagisa wasn’t paying attention to where he was going.

The world paused for moment when someone— barely three shops away— yelled _POLICE!_

Nagisa was the first one to unfreeze, flashing a desperate smile. “Oops?”

The heavy-built man emerged from the shadows, showing his scarred face burning with fury. “You’re dead!”

And that was when universe pressed _PLAY,_ giving everyone the cue to scamper off, away from the terrifying— and most probably armed— man and the police officer.

Makoto didn’t have the time to think, instinctively grabbing Haruka’s arm and running as fast as his drunk head could take him. It was turning out to be an unforgettable night indeed.

Fuelled by panic, Makoto navigated out of Shinjuku’s winding alleys and into an arcade shop. He ran through the maze of the deafening _POW POW POW POW_ and the flashing, blinding colours, exiting on the other side of the street. He didn’t know how far they’d gotten, lost track of who was pursuing who, only knowing they had to run away.

“—koto! _Mako— to—!”_ Haruka heaved and twisted his arm out of Makoto’s grip. They stopped running and Makoto let go of his arm. Haruka bent over to catch his breath. Makoto forgot how he _hated_ running. “We’ve— lost— them—”

Makoto inhaled and exhaled slowly, waiting for his breathing to go back to its natural rhythm. “We’ve lost Nagisa and Rei, too.”

Haruka nodded and shook the arm that Makoto used to drag him.

Makoto gasped in alarm, cradling Haruka’s pale and clammy face in his hands. “I’m so sorry, Haru! Are you okay?”

He dropped his hands, suddenly realising how much he was smothering him.

Haruka looked away. “Apart from almost losing an arm, I’m okay.”

“I’m so sorry!” Makoto repeated, reaching for Haruka’s arm to make it feel better.

“Relax, I was just joking.”

Blood rushed along Makoto’s veins, shading his face and his neck red. “Are you sure? You’re not hurt?”

“No.”

Makoto sighed and laughed with relief, his heart pounding wildly against his ribcage. He hadn’t felt this rush in so long; he forgot how he could feel so _alive._ Haruka laughed with him, the sound of his laughter ringing in Makoto’s ears. He closed his eyes and touched his forehead against Haruka’s, their breaths mixing into clouds of mist.

They stayed still for a moment and pulled away, busying themselves with the graffitied walls surrounding them. If Haruka noticed how their hands were intertwined, he didn’t say anything.  

Flurries of snow started falling, pattering and quickly sprinkling across the pavement. Makoto blinked, making sure he was seeing clearly and it was not just a trick of light. Snow hadn’t fallen again since their lunch out in Tsukiji. He shivered as cold settled into his skin. It was probably -2 °C, but he was still sweating profusely from running.  

Haruka let go and slipped his freezing hand into his coat pocket. Makoto did the same. He watched the snow fall in the dark, mesmerised at the sight of them dancing and glimmering under the street lights.

He felt Haruka tug at his sleeve. “Come on, let’s look for Rei and Nagisa.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay okay, i might have slipped some 'Lost in Translation' references here. couples that run away together stay together, or something like that.
> 
> rating goes up next chapter and maaaaaan, you guys aren’t even ready! \\(OuO)/ 
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	6. i couldn't whisper when you needed it shouted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Haru, I—" Makoto panted. Breathing was becoming difficult as if the air was being sucked out of the room. He curled his fingers into the fabric of his jeans. “I missed us.”_

After what felt like hours of searching every street, every corner, every subway entrance around the area, Makoto and Haruka failed to find Rei and Nagisa. They did, however, stumble upon a coffee shop that was open 24/7, which was what they needed to rest their tired eyes and sore feet.

Makoto exhaled a lungful of air as he flopped on the soft cushion. He closed his eyes and let himself feel the gushing of exhaustion from their adrenaline-filled pursuits. It was only a matter of time before he passed out.

“I’ll try ringing them again in a bit.” Haruka sank tiredly beside him.

“Okay.” Makoto leaned his head against the sofa’s backrest, admiring the room. “This is a nice coffee shop.”

“You’d think Shinjuku is an endless maze of shady bars until you find gems like this.”

The place was an old, narrow, French-style villa that was converted into a coffee house. It kept its rustic, home-like interiors in the form of soft couches, wooden tables, and floating bookshelves. People dined in the dim light, with fairy lights hanging above their heads. At the communal table, a group of university-age students typed away on their laptops. Some couples talked in hushed voices across the room.

Makoto closed his eyes again, on the verge of falling asleep. He’d been wading across a dream-like haze the past two weeks, he realised. Everything felt like a dream to him starting from the moment Haruka stood outside his door, holding his lost cat. It was like a supernatural whirlpool had pulled him and slipped him into the unknown.

He couldn’t even recognise the city. This wasn’t his Tokyo anymore. Makoto’s Tokyo was empty midday streets, the sound of children’s laughter by the pool, and quiet afternoons with Nikko.

This was _Makoto and Haruka’s_ Tokyo: crowded train stations, lantern-lit alleys, and late-night pub crawls. It was their city just like how Iwatobi was theirs before—

_No no no no stop thinking about it._

“Makoto?”

He bolted upright and found Haruka looking at him inquisitively.

“S-Sorry, I was falling asleep.”

“I’m hungry.”

“Right, me too. Let’s order.” He grabbed the menu book and flipped through the pages. “What do you wanna eat, Haru?”

Less than half an hour later, they were sharing plates of eggs and pancakes, shoving food into their mouths to soothe their grumbling stomachs. The smell of hot coffee helped wake Makoto. He took one sip after another, hoping it would make his brain work faster.

Another mellow song played. It almost sounded like a children's lullaby with tinkling piano notes weaving a somber melody with the female singer’s airy and haunting voice. The words flowed into a stream of nostalgia, revisiting the small wonders of childhood, its colours and textures and feelings. The rhythm sped up, taking Makoto into a fast-paced merry-go-round and he suddenly felt like crying and laughing at the same time.

His phone chimed, anchoring him back to the present.

“It’s Rei, he said they just got home. They made it back safely.” A sigh of relief escaped his lips. He typed a quick reply and sank back into the sofa again.  

“That’s good.” Haruka paused, chewing on his lower lip. He did it out of habit when something bothered him. After a long stretch of silence, he said, “I’m worried about Nagisa.”

“Me too.” Makoto ran his palms up and down his thighs, feeling the texture of his jeans in his fingertips. “It’s like being in the ‘real’ world changed him.”

Haruka nodded. “To be honest, I wished he tackled me for old time’s sake when we met at Shinjuku Station. But he didn’t,” he said. “All he did was smile and said ‘long time no see’, and it felt wrong somehow.”

“He did brighten up a little during dinner. He didn’t want to talk about his current situation so he asked you a million questions instead.” Makoto sighed. “He’s still the same. He tends to hide his feelings because he doesn’t want anyone to worry about him.”

Haruka hummed in agreement. “But I’m glad Rei is always there for him.”

“And Nagisa isn’t one to give up very easily,” said Makoto. “Remember when he went running with Rei every morning to recruit him for the swim club?”

Haruka smiled fondly at the memory. “They can get through anything when they’re together.”

“I believe it too.”

Silence grew louder at the café. Customers had gone and went, some of the students put their heads on the table to take a nap, laptop screens glowing in the low light. Makoto tapped a vaguely familiar tune on his lap to fill up the emptiness.

“A lot of things have changed, huh?” he said. “When we were in high school, all we worried about were swim training and joining relay races.”

He recounted how he and Haruka used to sit together at the school rooftop by sunset, drinking orange juice and talking about their weekend plans. His most favourite moments were hinged on routine, fleeting and ordinary, and would sound meaningless if told to strangers, but had always been tucked in a special corner of his heart.

A supercut of cherished vignettes played in his mind: late afternoons along the seaside, breathtaking storms of cherry blossom petals, summer festival lanterns… They were all so tangible, still so fresh in his mind, he could feel their presence surrounding him.  

“Do you remember the time our team went training in the islands?”

He, Haruka, Nagisa, and Rei were stranded after a storm, which made him relive a traumatic experience from a long time ago. Haruka had tried very hard to protect his feelings, but Makoto believed it was the chance to open up and build a stronger bond between the four of them.

“—and when we went outside, a million stars were shining above us. The puddles on the floor reflected their light and it looked like we were floating in space. I’ve never seen a sight like that before—”

He didn’t realise how immersed he was in his story until his gaze fell upon Haruka who was listening to him so intently, chin on his hand, his head tilted to the side. Strands of dark hair cascaded across his forehead, above his eyes that were soft with sleepiness. His lips curled with the hint of a smile and Makoto’s chest tightened.  

Haruka’s face fell when he stopped talking. He looked around them, alarmed. “Is something wrong?”

“N-Nothing,” said Makoto. “I— I thought I saw someone I know.”  

“You’re pretty popular, aren’t you?” teased Haruka, his little smile replaced with a smirk.

“You’re exaggerating.” Makoto huffed. “I haven’t really made a lot of friends here in Tokyo. It’s so big and intimidating and different. I often feel lost in the crowd.”

Haruka hummed, pondering on Makoto’s words in silence.

Makoto thought about the three foreign men they met at the bar some hours ago. He thought about how normal it was for Haruka to meet people like them, all of them having exploding personalities and unlimited interesting stories to tell. Meanwhile, Makoto was confined in this strange city that was only partly his. It seemed exciting and attractive at first, but in truth, it had nothing to offer Haruka but confusion and disarray.  

He willed his mind to return to their happy childhood, but his alcohol-addled thoughts wandered somewhere he’d been trying to avoid.

When they were children, they were always there for each other. They held hands anywhere they went because it made them feel safe, until it became instinctive and natural. Makoto had always been the one to tug at Haruka’s hand, to encourage him to go out of his lonely little world, to make more friends. Haruka has always been the one to reach out a hand to Makoto, to kiss his scratches when he fell, to take the pain away.

But when it was time to leave their childhood behind, when Haruka decided to pack his things and fly overseas, he left Makoto with an unbearable pain.  

Makoto inhaled a deep breath to calm his heart that was thundering in his chest. He opened and closed his hands in an attempt to hide their shaking. Maybe he had enough coffee already.

“I’m so happy we got to hang out again, Haru.”

He hesitated for a second, thinking whether he should say his thoughts out loud. He pushed down the heavy lump that was forming in his throat. “You know… when you left… I was afraid we would never see each other again.”

He regretted saying those words as soon as they left his mouth, but it was too late to take them back. He had dug a pit and fell straight to it. What more harm would it do if he dug in deeper?

“Haru, I—" Makoto panted. Breathing was becoming difficult as if the air was being sucked out of the room. He curled his fingers into the fabric of his jeans. “I missed us.”

He punctuated it with a short laugh, partially for being hopelessly and vulnerably honest, and partially because he knew Haruka didn’t care about the past anymore. The only sense of comfort he could give himself was that he’d already said it out loud. A part of him could finally find peace and move on.

“Me too.”

Haruka was looking at him like he was the only other person in the room. Shock spiked up Makoto’s spine. He drew in a sharp breath, unable to respond with words.

Studying his own cup of coffee, Haruka contemplated on how to string his words together.

“After we ended, I…” He started, eyes downcast and hiding their brightness. His voice was small and shaky, uncertain about what to say next. “I-I’ve been in a relationship with some people. Some of them lasted longer than the others, but… I— I— they weren’t like you.”

A misplaced sense of relief washed over Makoto. He knew he shouldn’t feel this way, but his awareness didn’t stop the tide of relief from pulling him towards a question he’d been wanting to ask the past two weeks. A question he didn’t have enough courage to say aloud until now.

“Haru, is there… Is there someone at the moment?”

Haruka locked his gaze into his, giving him a chance to look into those deep pools of blue, and reminding him how they were so disarming, how they could always tie him down.

“No.”

Makoto struggled to find his voice, and when he did, it came out quiet and wobbly. “I—" he started. “I have… loved some people too after… you know…” He looked up at Haruka and paused. “But you make all of them irrelevant.”

Haruka was stunned beyond words. He wore the same expression he had when they competed against each other in a freestyle race back in high school. Looking at him _hurt._ He’d searched Makoto’s face with crippling anticipation, waiting for the crushing rejection to come, for Makoto to hate him forever, only to be surprised and relieved when Makoto admitted defeat with grace and a blinding smile.  

“Makoto…”

And just like how gravity unfailingly pulled everyone to the ground, Makoto closed the space between them until their lips touched. A small gasp escaped Haruka, but he opened his mouth to accept Makoto’s unspoken confession.

Makoto’s skin tingled upon reaching for Haruka’s face, realising how much his hands longed to touch Haruka again. A strong wave of desire overflowed in his hollow chest. _Don’t let go._ His head spun and his heart pounded loudly as his teeth lightly tugged at Haruka’s lips.

They parted only to breathe. To read each other’s face. Haruka’s eyes mirrored the desire that was drowning Makoto. A dull ache sliced across his insides. He had let his defences down. With Haruka, he could never hold his guard up for too long and this evening was proof to his weakness.

Letting himself become weaker, he dove in for another kiss. And another and another. From the way they touched and looked at each other, he was certain they both wanted something _more_.

“H-Haru, do you want to…?” Makoto asked once their lips parted, his hands cupping Haruka’s face.

Haruka didn’t wait for Makoto to finish his sentence. In a low, husky voice, he replied, “Yes, I want to.”

They shared a deep kiss one more time before walking out of the coffee shop hand in hand. It was still dark outside and the city was only starting to wake up, but the trains began operating for another day.

Makoto and Haruka sat across each other, occasionally meeting each other’s gaze. They couldn’t trust themselves to practice restraint if they sat only a few inches apart. Their eyes lingered on other passengers to kill time. Some were passed out on their seats, some tapping idly on their phones. After what seemed to be a lifetime, they finally reached Makoto’s apartment.

They were welcomed by a meowing Nikko— the creaking door must have woken her. She only cocked her head in confusion, giving them a second glance to make sure it was really _Makoto and Haruka,_ and not some drunk strangers barging in her owner’s apartment.

The night continued to be a dream-like sequence to Makoto. His arms had been empty for so long, and now they were wrapped around Haruka like they always had in the past. He buried his face in the nape of Haruka’s neck, breathing him in. They were 17 again, carefree and full of wonder.

_“Makoto,”_ Haruka sighed, eyes half-lidded. His warm breath sent goosebumps to Makoto’s skin. He couldn’t say anything more as Makoto pinned him against the bedroom door, kissing him harder and flicking his tongue inside his mouth.

Makoto shut his eyes to feel every touch and every kiss. His fingertips prickled as he slipped them underneath Haruka’s layers, finding smooth skin and tracing the length of his spine. His rough, calloused hands made him shiver.

Pulling away for a second to admire Haruka’s face, Makoto savoured the feeling of being this close to him. From the way his eyelids fluttered, Makoto could tell he was nervous too.

“Ah, _Haru…”_ Makoto groaned as Haruka nipped and sucked on his neck, knowing how much he loved it.

Haruka enveloped Makoto’s lips with his and the two of them shared kiss after desperate kiss while discarding an item of clothing. Haruka’s lips were a little chapped from the weather, but still so soft and familiar, knowing their way around Makoto’s body.  

They crashed on the bed once they were fully naked. Makoto’s breath hitched as he fell underneath Haruka. His lips continued touching Makoto’s skin, covering his body with reverent kisses. He lay still, letting Haruka’s fingers graze and curl around him, to reacquaint with his sensitive parts.

Lips wandered lower and lower, Haruka nipped and licked down his inner thighs, and ultimately spread a wildfire across his lover.

“Haru… _Haru…”_

Pleasure flowed within Makoto. Scrunching his eyes shut, he rumpled his silky hair with his fingers, his thighs clamping around Haruka’s head. His wet and hot mouth felt _so good_ wrapped around Makoto’s length. He grabbed the sheets, panting, panting.

The glorious moment was cut short as Haruka released him.

“Touch me,” breathed Haruka, planting tender kisses on Makoto until he reached the curve of his neck.

Makoto’s body tingled at his request. He gazed into those midnight blue eyes. He loved looking at them. They commanded attention even without Haruka’s intentions. People would always mention how extraordinary they were, _like the deep ocean,_ but what they didn’t know was they were the easiest way to read Haruka. They were so expressive, brimming over with thoughts he didn’t say aloud.

And in that moment, he had a lot of conflicting emotions. He was feeling as equally vulnerable as Makoto, letting his desires show through kisses and touches. At the same time, he was _terrified._ He was looking at Makoto as if he was waiting to be rejected.

Makoto cradled Haruka’s face in his hands and hoped his kisses were enough to soothe his fears. He kissed Haruka passionately to let him know that he was sure of this.

_I want to be with you._  

He only hoped he didn’t make him feel that, deep down, he was as apprehensive as the first time they slept together. He felt silly for feeling this way, thinking about how much they made love after the first time, but this _was_ their first time after such a long time.

They first made love when they were 16. Hesitant and faces red from embarrassment, they lay in bed for a long moment, realising they had never been naked around anybody like this before. _It’s okay, Makoto…_ Haruka had encouraged breathlessly underneath him. _It’s okay… to look…_ Makoto blushed to the tips of his ears, scared and embarrassed and excited at the same time, because he’d been _waiting for it._ He’d only ever wanted to make love with Haruka then, _no one else,_ and it was happening. He was Haruka’s and Haruka was his.

“Makoto—“ Haruka took in a deep breath and buried his face again on Makoto’s neck. “I want— I want you.”

Both Haruka’s kisses and proclamation destroyed his remaining defences, turning him into a crumbling mess. He let his weakness take hold of him, giving in to Haruka’s request like he always did.

Because after all, it was Haruka, and he wanted all of him.

“O-Okay,” he croaked.

He retrieved a bottle from his bedside table and gave it to Haruka, who straddled and lay him on his back. Thrill gripped Makoto upon finding how their bodies seemed to still fit perfectly together despite how they had changed inevitably in the past years. Haruka took his hand and coated it with lube before guiding his fingers inside him.

Both of them moaned as Haruka sank deeper onto his thick fingers, opening him up. Colours burst across his vision. Nothing felt as incredible as being surrounded by Haruka’s tightness and heat.

Once he was ready, Haruka mounted him and sank slowly onto him with Makoto’s guidance. He heaved and groan at the discomfort of being filled with Makoto’s girth, but he didn’t stop.

“Haru, are you okay?” asked Makoto, running his hands gently along Haruka’s thighs.

“Y-Yeah, I’m o-okay…” Haruka took in a sharp breath before sinking another inch. “Just… give me a second… _Ah—”_

Makoto gave him a long and deep kiss to distract him from the uneasiness, and brushed his lips to his forehead and the tip of his nose for good measure. He forgot how much time it took to fit inside Haruka. Vines of guilt started growing in his chest, crawling out of his ribcage. Maybe they should have given it more time. He was hurting him.

He was about to say it aloud when Haruka called his name, a hint of smile on his lips, half arousal, half pride. Soon, he was pushing and pulling against Makoto with more ease. He wrapped his arms around Makoto’s neck, spreading heat across his body.

Underneath Haruka, Makoto watched him roll his hips and throw his head back, indulging in intense pleasure. He stiffened a little at the sensation of Makoto’s tongue flicking across his chest. Haruka moaned and thrusted as Makoto placed sloppy kisses to his mouth, his jaw, and the sides of his neck.

The obscene, wet sounds of skin slapping against skin mixed with the humming of early morning, of cars occasionally passing by Makoto’s building, of the cleaners sweeping the streets.  

Makoto was lost in the memories of all the times they made love in the past: that time when he sneaked out of his window and into Haruka’s house, during Makoto’s 18th birthday, one summer night at the beach under billions of stars. His heart thrummed faster as he remembered these times and many others. The two of them always finished sweaty and slick with arousal, with huge smiles on their faces. Every experience was different, but they were all with Haruka, and Makoto loved all of them equally.

As exhaustion slowed Haruka’s pace, Makoto flipped them over so he was on top of him. He pushed and pulled in and out of Haruka, one hand stroking his arousal, making Haruka moan in ecstasy and taking him closer to the edge.

Sunlight trickled in between the blinds, painting the walls and creating softer shadows. Makoto regarded Haruka in the half-light, memorising his face and his dark hair splayed like spilled ink on water. Despite sweating and panting, Haruka smiled at him.

Makoto’s heart ached at this beautiful sight.  

Haruka wrapped his strong and slender legs around Makoto and dug his nails on his back, leaving long, red marks. Makoto welcomed the sting nonetheless because these marks would be the only proof that they’d been together when this dream-like night was over, and Haruka had left him once again.

Makoto thrusted deeper, more desperate, impatient, possessive, eliciting louder moans from Haruka.  

_I missed you I missed you I missed you I missed you_

_Please don’t go please don’t leave me again please don’t go_

He thought about the times he’d said, _Okay Haru,_ in the past. He wanted to give Haruka everything not because he was selfless, but because he was scared of being left behind. In the end, it wasn’t enough to make him stay. What difference would it make this time around?  

Makoto reached for Haruka’s hand and wrapped an arm around his body, clinging to him tightly as if to reassure himself that he wouldn’t dissolve into the ether. His movements became erratic and sloppy as fatigue slowly settled into his body.

_“Makoto—”_

Haruka breathed out his name like he was the air he needed to live. He called for him again and again, each time with more yearning than the last. Makoto will never forget how his name sounded on Haruka’s lips, mouthing _Ma-ko-to,_ ending with a sharp breath and a loud cry as he released his arousal.

Finishing soon after, Makoto collapsed on top of Haruka, pressing his cheek against his sweaty chest. Their legs tangled, toes brushing ankles.

They lay like that in the following moments of stillness, holding each other very closely in a bed made for one. Their breaths trembled and rattled. Makoto placed his ear over Haruka’s heartbeat and listened to the rapid _thump, thump, thump, thump, thump_. When he looked up, he found a serene smile on Haruka’s face.

Closing his eyes, Makoto felt something in him being reborn. Emotions stirred in his chest. His head spun in confusion and the next thing he knew, he was in a merry-go-round, and he felt like laughing and crying at the same time.

Anger slapped him, reminding him how he was living a normal, quiet life until Haruka returned and disrupted everything like a tsunami wiping out an entire city. He would be gone again in a week, leaving Makoto in the wake of devastation, wondering how to put everything back into place.

Then terror gripped him. He remembered very clearly how he felt right after Haruka left him. He had a massive presence in Makoto’s life. When he walked away, he left a gaping hole in it. Makoto had struggled functioning for months. It was something he alone had suffered because he didn’t know how to ask for help, how anyone could possibly understand the intensity of Haruka’s absence from his life.

The gaping hole was being miserable on a festive day, fighting back tears as his family and his friends rejoiced and danced to rhythmic music. It was forcing himself to smile even it hurt. It was loathing fireworks displays because they reminded him of their fight and the grief that followed it. It was wishing Haruka was there by his side like he always was, but it was too late— he had driven him away.

It took him years to learn to care for himself the way he used to care about Haruka, and he wasn’t sure how he could pick himself up this time around. How would he cope once Haruka left again?

Shaken by fear, he clung to Haruka tighter. Words itched to leave his mouth, words he’d had difficulties saying even when they were still together. It frustrated him very much because he could express himself with ease under different circumstances, and this seemed to be an exception. He hadn't told Haruka enough and maybe it was one reason why he couldn’t make him stay.  

“I still love you.”

The words hung in the air, echoing across the room. He didn’t dare to look up at Haruka. Instead, he gripped him like he was a lifeline, as though he would drown if he let go.

_Please don’t say anything, please don’t say anything…_

And Haruka kept his silence. Instead of uttering words, he rubbed soothing circles around Makoto’s back. It had always worked for Makoto before, but he doubted anything could calm him down at this moment. Feeling his nose sting, he scrunched his eyes shut until the soft morning light faded into complete darkness. Quietly, he started crying.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> didn’t i say you weren’t ready? (me neither!)
> 
> i’ve completely underestimated how emotionally taxing writing a post-breakup fic can get!! why did i inflict this upon myself?? why?? i’ve been screaming internally while typing since ‘i missed us’ all the way to the end ;A; i’ve ripped myself into pieces basically, i am nothing but shredded paper now. 
> 
> but enough about me. are you enjoying the pain too?? i really hope you do!!! (if i have to feel it, you have to feel it too sorry i don’t make the rules). let me know in the comments! >;) 
> 
> btw here’s the [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G5OV1JPqlNQ) that Makoto was thinking about, the one that played at the café. it’s in English, and he probably wouldn’t have paid attention to it anyway, but hey, it’s the feels that count! 
> 
> you can check out this [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/elliceium/playlist/2ULXz9EB0a6mo6ImoG2Loj?si=49qWRXCNT_GV5K_3wa2_qg) if you want more songs to cry to. 
> 
> and don’t forget, you can yell at me here: 
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/nanases_h)
> 
> [Tumblr](http://nanases-h.tumblr.com)


	7. everything comes back to you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _“Will you love me like you loved me in the January[rain?”](https://open.spotify.com/track/6dtB54Z7eICDUOPq3QwXuo?si=TI6EAJV9QwmYNprXEh6Suw) ___

“Stockholm, huh?”

Haruka looked up from his soda and nodded. “I’m visiting a friend for a bit.”

It was Haruka’s last night in Tokyo and Makoto insisted they had dinner together. They had been having small talk for the last two hours, grasping at random, insignificant topics even though they kept going in circles like the sushi plates on the conveyor belt before them.

Makoto drummed his fingers on the counter until he came up with his next question. “Have you been to Scandinavia before?”

“No,” Haruka replied before stuffing his mouth with a shrimp roll.

“You must be very excited, then.”

He’d dreaded being alone with Makoto again after _that_ night, but he did expect it to happen soon.

When Haruka woke up the next day, he wriggled out of Makoto’s arms and got dressed in a hurry. Makoto was in deep slumber, oblivious to the waking world. Haruka preferred it that way, to leave without talking about what happened. He pattered around the apartment, looked for ibuprofen and left it on the bedside table with a glass of water. It must have been around midday because Nikko walked circles around Haruka’s ankles, purring and purring until he found some cat food. He said goodbye to her and strode to the closest subway station. Taking the train to nowhere, he texted Makoto, _Sorry I left already. Didn’t want to wake you up._

The two of them didn’t have the chance to be alone together since then. Not even after Haruka won second place at the 100m and 200m freestyle races, or at the farewell dinner that Nagisa and Rei organised last night. Haruka made sure to surround himself with friends, entertaining all the _Congratulations!_ and _When are you coming back?_ nudges because _he wasn’t prepared to talk about it._

He knew he should do it before he left, so here they were.

He checked the time on his phone. “Hey, uh, I have to go. My housemates are throwing a going-away party at the apartment.”

“Oh okay…” said Makoto. Haruka could see the gears in his head shifting, thinking about something to say. “I’ll walk you back.”

He nodded.

“The sushi was delicious,” he said once they stepped out of the restaurant. “And the location’s convenient too. Thanks for taking me.”

“Ah yeah. Well, I didn’t want to take you far away. I know you’re tired already,” replied Makoto, stuffing his hands inside his pockets.

Haruka surveyed their neighbourhood for what could be the last time. The rain had stopped and created puddles on the pavement, reflecting lights from the lanterns that hung outside the restaurants lining the streets. He squinted, his eyelashes blurring his vision and making the lights bigger and closer than they were supposed to be. The kanji signs didn’t look like words anymore and instead a bunch of lines thrown in together.

Everything felt foreign and distant all of a sudden, and he felt misplaced. Lost.

On this day next week, he’d be in a different country surrounded by people that spoke an unfamiliar language. The days would be colder and shorter. The sights, the scents, the sounds— everything would be strange, but it only meant that there were infinite things to explore.

He tried to imagine what Stockholm looked like based on the photos he’d seen on the internet. Old, brightly-coloured buildings rising in the snow, families ice skating in the rinks, boats floating along the canal…

He couldn’t remember enough images to stop the flooding of memories he made in Makoto’s bedroom. He thought of the soft light passing through the blinds, Makoto sighing his name against his ear. Holding him in the aftermath when he had already fallen asleep, his chest damp from Makoto’s tears after his confession.

A quiet sound rippled across the walls:

_I still love you too,_ Haruka had whispered, the room a silent witness to his proclamation.

“Haru,” called Makoto. They were almost outside the door to Haruka’s apartment.

Haruka turned his head to him.

“Listen… About what I said that night… when we were together…” Makoto huffed and stopped walking. “I didn’t mean it.”

_I still love you._

Haruka sucked in a sharp breath and held it. Why did it sound like an apology? Did he regret what happened between them?

“A lot of crazy things happened and we were drunk and tired and I don’t know why I said it—“

The cold wind blew, making Haruka’s eyes sting.

“I know, Makoto.” He replied. “I know.”

Makoto’s mouth hung open, not knowing what to say for a second. “Right. Okay.”

Walking towards his apartment door, Haruka said, “Good night.”

“‘Night, Haru.”

* * *

The train ride to the airport was uneventful. Haruka struggled to keep himself awake. His housemates’ going-away party ended at six in the morning and he hadn’t really gotten the chance to sleep. He guessed he could sleep on the plane. He and Natsuya had 11 hours until their layover in Dubai, and another seven hours until they would arrive in Stockholm.

Makoto sat beside him all that time, asking how the going-away party went when the silence grew too loud.

They alighted from the train after an hour. Haruka immediately searched the screen for departing flights to see which counter he should check-in. Trying to buy his time, he pretended he missed it and waited for it to flash twice more.  

He’d already said goodbye to his friends during Nagisa and Rei’s dinner party for him, telling them he preferred if they said it there and not at the airport. It was one of the few instances he’d tolerated hugging and other forms of affection. He knew they had many emotions, but it didn’t stop him from being surprised when they finally showed them.

When he said goodbye to his parents in Osaka weeks ago, they were obviously sad to see him go, but they smiled and promised to meet him again whichever city he would be in a couple of months, like what they always did before. He thought they were bad enough with goodbyes, but his friends were a million times _worse._

Nagisa smothered him every chance he could, practically squeezing the life out of him, making Haruka think that he wouldn’t make it through the night. Rei kept wiping his glasses clean of his tears. Rin offered to drive him to the airport, and Haruka had to tease him how he didn’t want to see him cry. Sousuke patted his shoulder and called him ‘Haru’.

Makoto didn’t say much, but like how he insisted they had dinner together on his last night, he told Haruka that he would like to take him to the airport. Haruka didn’t see the need to argue. One look at his face and he understood that he wouldn’t take _no_ for an answer.

And here he was, stalling until he could figure out what to say to Makoto.

Right from the start, they knew this would happen in three weeks. Haruka would fly out to chase foreign cities and swim his way around the world. Makoto would go back coaching children and living his quiet existence in the concrete jungle that was Tokyo.

At the end of it all, Haruka and Makoto had to move on with their separate lives.

Clearing his throat, Makoto said, “Wow, three weeks had gone so quickly, ha ha!”          

“It did,” replied Haruka, adjusting the strap of his backpack.  

A big group of Korean tourists passed them by in a single file, dragging heavy luggage and chatting happily.  

“Makoto…” Haruka muttered to the floor. “Thank you for making time for me.”

Makoto shook his head. “It was nothing.” He smiled. “Good luck, Haru. With swimming… and everything.”

“Thanks.” Haruka gave him a half-smile. “Good luck to you too.”

Makoto shifted his weight from one foot to another. “So, uh, we’ll keep in touch?”

Last week, when they were exploring Shibuya and taking lots of photos together, he’d asked if Haruka was using social media accounts at all. He didn’t really have any when they were in high school, seeing no point in having them if all of his friends lived in the same town. But now that he moved around a lot, social media was the most convenient way to keep in touch with friends he made on the road and, recently, at home.

“Yeah, just send me an e-mail or message me on LINE. Whatever’s convenient for you.”

“Okay, I will.”

They held each other’s gaze for a moment.

_Please ask me to stay._

_Tell me you need me here._

Haruka uttered in his head on repeat, testing if their ‘telepathic connection’— as what their friends called their ability to read each other— still worked. His message must have drowned when the speakers blasted an announcement for Flight XX 123 to Unknown City started taking baggage.  

He let out a soft gasp when Makoto embraced him, surrounding Haruka with his warmth. Once he got over his shock, Haruka hugged him back, wrapping his arms tightly around Makoto and letting himself remember how it felt to be held by him for the last time. They lingered like that for a long moment, neither of them wanting to let go.

Brushing his lips on top of Haruka’s head, Makoto released him and smiled, the kind that came with sad, glimmering eyes, the kind that punched a hole through Haruka’s chest.

He tensed his jaw and swallowed the forming lump in his throat. With a low voice, he said, “I— I have to go. Natsuya’s waiting inside already.”

Makoto nodded. He kept his smile but didn’t raise his head. “Bye, Haru.”

“Goodbye, Makoto.”

Haruka turned away before his voice could crack even more. He blinked to clear his blurry vision, and walked ahead, not looking back. 

* * *

Twenty-one hours, two long flights, and a handful of movies later, Haruka and Natsuya reached Stockholm. It was around mid-day and all Haruka wanted was to lie in bed and sleep the year away. He blindly followed Natsuya in the search for their studio-type Airbnb, his poor, jet-lagged brain too slow to catch up with everything that was happening.  

Luckily, it didn’t take long. He vaguely remembered nodding off on the train from the airport to the city centre and dragging his stiff legs for a couple of blocks. The softness of the mattress welcomed him as he dove face first, the light muted as Natsuya shut the blinds.

Natsuya was more talkative than usual, eager to fill in the spaces that silence gave them. Haruka fell asleep just as he started complaining about how cold it was and saying how he did the right decision to shop for winter gear at Uniqlo.  

His dreams were a mess of colours and faceless people. He didn’t know how long he’d slept. The sun had set, but it could be five in the afternoon or midnight. He rolled out of bed and checked his phone to see what time or day it was, but it was dead. After he plugged it in, he flicked the lights on and looked around.

The apartment was too square, the walls too white, too bare. It lacked decor that gave it any personal touch. No postcards on the walls or stacks of books on the floor. The scent of cinnamon pastries clung in the air. Everything felt wrong.

“Natsuya?” He hollered like a lost child. “Natsuya!”

When he didn’t answer, Haruka assumed he was wandering around the neighbourhood to get his bearings like what he usually did after arriving in a new city.

He sank helplessly on his bed. Closing his eyes and inhaling deeply, he imagined the smell of oranges and he felt a little bit better.

Then, he opened his eyes and he was on his own again. No more goofy, ink-stained smiles or rare snowfall. No more clumsy gestures and awkward apologies that would follow. No more hearty laughter or lingering green gazes.

No more hugs, no more kisses, no more warmth.

His life without Makoto was a crumbling mountain with its core carved out.

He fell asleep with these thoughts circling in his head, and he was trapped in a restless cycle that lasted for days.  

One morning— or afternoon— he wasn’t sure, the unusually-bright winter light woke him up. Hearing some shuffling in the kitchen, he rolled out of bed. He chanced upon his own reflection on the window and frowned at his current state, patting his unruly hair and adjusting the neckline of his loose woollen sweater.

Natsuya sat cross-legged at the dining table, scrolling on his phone. He whipped his head at Haruka’s direction.

“Oh thank god, you’re up!” He grinned, amber eyes flashing with excitement. He pressed his phone to his ear. “I was about to make calls for princes to awake Sleeping Beauty from his long and deep slumber.”

Haruka shot him an annoyed glare. He dragged the chair across from Natsuya and flopped on it.

“You want coffee? Well, it’s—” Natsuya checked the time on his phone. “— four p.m. already but you’re only starting your day…”

Haruka shook his head.

“Eggs? Toast? Pancakes?”

He shook his head again, taking absent interest on the table.

Sighing, Natsuya got up to find something on the counter. He came back and slid a bowl of soup in front of Haruka. Tomato paste and fish stock wafted across the kitchen.

“I know you’re not feeling okay,” said Natsuya, sitting across him again. “You don’t have to tell me anything, but please eat.”

Reluctantly, Haruka picked up his spoon and took a sip. His face glowed upon tasting the tender chunk of salmon with the creamy, scrumptious soup.

Natsuya grinned proudly. “Good, right?”

He could only nod as he finished the soup. He forgot the last time he ate a proper meal after arriving in Sweden. Was it yesterday? No— yesterday, he raided the fridge for Natsuya’s leftovers. He kind of felt sorry for stealing them, but they were likely to end up in the garbage bin soon anyway.

“My personal chef had been out of commission lately so I had to fend for myself.”

Haruka rolled his eyes.

“Just kidding.” He chuckled. “There’s a restaurant downstairs that serves _deeelicious_ seafood. We can go tomorrow if you’re up for it.”

“Okay.”

Natsuya tried to mask his relief with an overconfident smile.

On their usual travel timeline, the two of them would spend the first couple of days talking about their last trip. They would discuss their experiences, their favourite days, and the things that they would have done differently. Just letting themselves _feel._ It took Haruka a while to learn how important it was to acknowledge and go through his feelings instead of avoiding them, but it was a habit he’d been trying to keep.

He also learned that it could take days or hours to go through them, but he had to no matter how long it took. He realised that he had to let himself experience his emotions fully until he could let them go because it was the only way he could be free.  

And this was the time to talk about the feelings that he had been bottling during his last days in Japan. He only hoped he had the right words to express himself.  

“Was it hard?” He asked, his voice dry and cracked from disuse.

Natsuya blinked in confusion. “What was?”

“Saying goodbye to Nao-senpai… was it hard?”

“Ah.” He traced his fingers along the edge of his plate before answering, “Not as bad as the first time, but yeah, it was still pretty difficult.”

Haruka nodded and paused for a while to string his words together.

“When I left for the first time…” he started. “I was convinced my life in Japan was over. And when I met Makoto again… I— I realised I’ve been lying to myself all this time.”

Natsuya hummed. “Well… your and Makoto’s situation is quite different from Nao’s and mine.”

“Yeah.” Haruka’s voice was small and rang with shame. “I ran away.”

“You did what you thought you needed.”

Haruka frowned. “How can you leave when you know someone in Tokyo’s waiting for you?” His tone was of curiosity, not an accusation.

Natsuya had learned how to read his tone through the years and not to take Haruka’s bluntness as criticism. He chuckled. It was a bit refreshing to hear it amidst their heavy conversation.

“I’m a big, stubborn dummy who’s been self-indulgent for too long.” He folded his arms behind his head and rocked his chair backward. “I like doing things on my own terms, which happened to be traveling and swimming. Coincidentally, they’re far away from the person I want to be with.” He shrugged. “And now, I have to stop being a big dummy and get my life together…”

Haruka looked at him in anticipation, wondering what else he had to say.

“Actually, there’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about, but you had your own things to deal with. Better now than later, I guess?” said Natsuya. He took a deep breath. “I’m taking a break after next month.”

“A break?” Haruka blinked.

“Next month’s race in Denmark will be my last one,” replied Natsuya. “I’m going back to Japan after that.”

Haruka nodded, slowly absorbing the implications of Natsuya’s announcement.

“Nao and I made a promise to each other many years ago, that we would chase our dreams together,” said Natsuya. “I know I’ll have to make a choice someday between traveling and being with him. And I choose to be with Nao.” He looked into Haruka’s eyes apologetically. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

Haruka shook his head. “I knew right from the start we wouldn’t do this forever. I knew we’d have to find something worth pursuing eventually,” he said. “And I’m glad you’ve found it, senpai.”  

Natsuya’s face brightened like it was the nicest thing someone had told him.  

“Good luck. To you and to Nao-senpai.”

Smiling, Natsuya clapped Haruka’s shoulder heavily, making him wince. “Ow!”

“Ah, sorry sorry!” Natsuya wiped the corners of his eyes, still holding his grin. “Thank you, _Haru._ ”

Haruka looked the other way in response.

An immense storm was brewing in his chest. How about him? What was worth pursuing?

* * *

Haruka was running late to his and his friend’s lunch out. He was anxious enough already because they hadn’t seen each other for years. What was he supposed to tell him? _I’m sorry I’m late. I sat on my bed in a towel and stared blankly into the void for an hour._

He only calmed down once he saw his friend’s towering figure outside a café, waving excitedly at him. He was smiling too, his white-blond hair falling across his face.

“Haru!” said Albert, his lilac eyes warm. He gave Haruka a big hug and clapped his back. “Finally! Welcome to Stockholm, man!”

“Thanks,” replied Haruka with a fraction of a smile.

Haruka met Albert Wåhlander about five years ago when he was backpacking across Southeast Asia. Albert asked where he could find the fish market and Haruka decided to come with him. Soon enough, they were bonding over their shared love for mackerel. A week later, it turned out that Albert was taking part in a swimming competition Haruka had signed up for, only they were in different categories.

He watched Albert’s race with awe. Never did any swimmer give him a rush of excitement, fear, and jealousy all at once. There was something alluring— _out of this world—_ about his swimming technique, how he effortlessly out-swam his competitors within a record-breaking time. And because of his swimming style, Albert received a lot of attention which followed him as he earned his rightful place in the Swedish national team.

“This is my favourite café in all of Stockholm,” said Albert as they stepped inside the establishment. “The building was constructed in the 19th century, and the café also houses an art gallery.”  

“It’s beautiful,” said Haruka, taking his time admiring the café’s chic interior and high ceilings. Stunning portraits and landscape paintings lined its white walls. People chatted quietly as they sipped coffee.

Resting his chin on his hand, Albert asked, “How was Japan?”

They stayed there for a while as Haruka filled him in about his recent homecoming, leaving out the bittersweet fragments to avoid dampening their reunion. He asked Albert a lot of questions so he didn’t have to speak all the time. He'd been trying to get used to speaking English every day again, and so far, he’d been stumbling over his words a lot.

Albert happily introduced him to Sweden’s coffee culture and asked which landmarks he’d visited already. Upon admitting he’d only walked around his apartment block since arriving in the city, Haruka was whisked away to explore for the rest of the day.

Albert took him to Gamla Stan, where Haruka marvelled at the well-preserved and colourful medieval buildings. They wandered the narrow, cobbled lanes for hours, finding beautiful churches, museums, and other historical sites.

A mild sense of comfort enveloped Haruka when they took a boat tour. He stared at the flat, grey water as he listened to Albert’s stories about his previous travels. His perky, youthful energy brightened the city’s harshly cold and gloomy atmosphere.

Haruka appreciated his friend’s effort in cheering him up all day, but at the same time, guilt gnawed at him.

Stockholm was undoubtedly charming and fascinating. He would have loved it more if he wasn’t pining for another city where he had left himself. He could hear Tokyo calling eight thousand kilometres away. His heart ached to see the rush of people in Shibuya Crossing, Shinjuku’s lantern-lit streets, and stray cats around his quiet neighbourhood.  

“I’m sorry I’m awful today,” said Haruka after they alighted from the boat, his chest stirring with regret and apprehension.

“Don’t be sorry,” said Albert, searching Haruka’s face. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

* * *

Albert’s apartment in Södermalm smelled of vanilla and roasted coffee. Haruka helped himself to another cup and sat on the living room floor. His host soon joined him with a plate of fish salad that suddenly made Haruka feel hungry despite not having appetite all day.

“Pickled mackerel with beetroot salad,” said Albert, sitting on the plush carpet. “We usually make it with pickled herring, but I know you like mackerel better.”

Haruka smiled and took a fork. “Thanks.”

“Didn’t I tell you I’d cook for you when you come over?”

“You did.”

“My team and I were in Tokyo last year for joint training with Japan’s national team,” mused Albert. “We didn’t have a lot of time to go around the city, though. Got to try _saba nitsuke,_ but I still like your version better.”

“My version is ordinary,” Haruka muttered to his plate.

“You have to come with me next time and show me around your hometown.”

“Okay.”

Noticing the somber look on Haruka’s face return, Albert asked, “So what really happened in Japan?”

Breathing in a lungful of air, Haruka hugged his knees. He never talked about Makoto with his foreign friends. Talking about him with people who had never met him felt odd. Wrong. But his thoughts needed disentangling and he knew Albert wasn’t the kind of person to pass judgment on others without listening to them.  

“There was this boy I grew up with,” he said, pushing the food around his plate. “He was my whole world and everything was perfect until I decided to leave.”

Haruka’s hand trembled. His throat was closing and he was suddenly feeling feverish. After a long pause, he continued, “I thought I’ve left it all behind until I met him again.”

“Why did you leave?” asked Albert.

“I’m not really sure,” replied Haruka. “One night, he told me he was going to Tokyo for university. I didn’t think it was an invitation for me to come with him, and I felt angry and lost and betrayed. I thought he was removing himself from me so I ran away.”

Wordlessly, Albert studied his face and waited for him to say more.  

“I had a choice. I was offered scholarships all over Japan, including Tokyo, where I could be with him, but I chose to run away. From one place to another because I didn’t want to be followed,” said Haruka.

He twirled the fork between his fingers. “Maybe it was for the best… Because if it didn’t end, it would be forever.”

His words resonated across the room with the stretch of silence that followed.

Confusion crossed Albert’s face. Gently, he asked, “And what’s wrong with forever?”

Haruka opened his mouth but he had nothing to say.

_What’s wrong with forever?_

He’d never thought about it before. Why did he run away? Was he scared?

Perhaps a part of him was terrified of _forever._ Forever, forever, _I’ll never leave you._ _I love you forever._

He was so used to people leaving him, saying goodbye before he was even ready. But he grew to let it be, like the changing of seasons, except some people left without coming back, and he’d accepted it as part of life. Acknowledging goodbyes had become natural for him.

Forever, on the other hand… Forever was this strange and confusing concept. He didn’t know what to do with it. Wasn’t sure he believed in it. Not sure it existed.

Seeing Makoto again made him curious about _forever._ No matter how big the distance he put between him and Makoto, no matter how much time had passed, his feelings remained the same. And it terrified him.

When there were truths he didn’t want to face, his instinct was to run away.

But he was tired of running away.

His mind wandered inside the trains of Tokyo. Sometimes, confusion overwhelmed him and he would lose his way while trying to get to his destination. He would hop on the wrong train once, twice, thrice, but he knew he had to keep going until he figured the right way out. It didn’t matter how long it took him because the destination was more important.

Eight years was a long time to be lost, but he was on his way to Makoto.

* * *

At around midnight, Haruka thanked Albert and bid him a cordial goodbye, the kind that said, _See you again._ Pulse racing, the first thing he did after getting inside his apartment was to book for the soonest possible flights from Stockholm to Tokyo. He wished Natsuya would return soon from his bar hopping so he could break the news to him.

Meanwhile, he stood in front of the full-length mirror in his room. Beads of sweat formed across his forehead, his eyes wide and his face panicked. How should he face Makoto? What should he say? He had a million thoughts whirling in his head, but he wasn’t sure if he could say them out loud. His throat felt tight, barely letting air in his lungs. He clenched and unclenched his fists.

“Makoto,” he uttered to his reflection, watching his lips form his name. “I love you. I want to be with you.”  

His heart was beating wildly in his chest. He wanted to run. Not away this time, but into Makoto.

He only hoped Makoto would be there to catch him like he always had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> albert, my boy, welcome to the story! you deserve to be the best man at the MakoHaru wedding. natsuya is maid of honour, obviously lmao
> 
> credit to ‘Skins’ series for the ‘forever’ dialogue. what if Haru is really scared of forever because he’s so used to people leaving him? he is a confused boi, pls give him some consideration 
> 
> we only have one chapter left!


	8. hope in human form

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _what am i to you_ he asks
> 
> i put my hands in his lap 
> 
> and whisper _you_
> 
> _are every hope i’ve ever had_
> 
> _in human form_
> 
> \- Rupi Kaur, ‘Milk and Honey’

_Hey Haru, how’s Stockholm?_

Delete.

_Haru! Hey how’s Stockholm? Nikko misses you (_ ⁎˃ᆺ˂ _)_

Delete.

_I miss you. Please come back._

Delete.

_Haruuuuuujdkfgsjgskdfjgksdfgj_

Makoto slammed his phone on the nightstand and groaned. He’d been staring at Haruka’s LINE profile for the past hour, typing message after message that he never sent. It had been about a week since he said goodbye to him at the airport. He’d spent every waking moment checking Haruka’s social media accounts like a madman, hoping to hear from him— his arrival in Stockholm, the dreary weather, a local fish recipe he tried for the first time, anything— but all he got were messages from friends.

They had been checking in a lot recently. His university friends started bugging him again, begging to hang out in Ropponggi. Nao-senpai invited him to meet some of his colleagues this weekend. Rin wondered if he wanted to join him and Sousuke to Yamanashi next month. Rei and Nagisa even ambushed him _in his own home_ last night.

_You didn’t join us for dinner two nights ago,_ said Nagisa, pouting as he dialled a pizza place so they could all stay in and watch movies.  

His phone chimed, its loud, obnoxious ringtone startling him in his comfortable nest of blankets. He hid his face behind his arm and pretended to sleep until it stopped ringing. He just wanted to be left alone.

_Please leave me alone for a while._

Curling into a ball, Makoto buried his nose on the pillow that Haruka used _that_ night, desperately trying to breathe in the faint scent that he left. Nikko mewled and jumped on the bed, licking his arm and rubbing her head against his hand. She had been sitting by the door for days, meowing in protest when the person she was expecting suddenly stopped showing up.

“I know…” Makoto cuddled her and kissed the top of her head. “I miss him too…”

Sleep was slowly wrapping its arms around him when the doorbell rang. He wasn’t expecting anyone at all, none that he could remember, and decided to let it keep ringing until the person went away.

He blinked awake. What if it was someone who needed his help?

Begrudgingly, he got up and dragged his bare feet to the door. Nikko bounced from the bed and ran to his side with urgency and excitement.

He finger-combed his ruffled hair in a false attempt to make himself look presentable. He wasn't sure if he was even fit to talk to people. His face was rough and stubbly because he couldn’t be bothered to shave for days. If Ren and Ran could see him, they would totally call him a caveman and laugh at his face. His eyes stung from sleeplessness. His waterlogged brain had been struggling to function— at one point he forgot what dolphin kick was called, and his children giggled about it for the rest of the session.

Well, his unexpected visitor would just have to deal with it.

Bracing himself for the flood of sunlight, he opened the door. “May I help y—“

Makoto wanted to fall to his knees and beg every god in the universe to please, please, _please stop playing cruel tricks on me._ How could he be looking at Haruka when he was supposed to be on the other side of the world?

“H-Haru?” His voice caught in his throat.

Maybe he was hallucinating from the lack of sleep. Maybe if he blinked enough, his hallucination would go away. But it didn’t.

“Makoto.”

He stood there with his mouth gaping like a goldfish, unable to look away from Haruka. He took in his appearance like the day he returned Nikko not too long ago. He looked the same, backlit by winter light, except for the dark circles around his eyes, disheveled hair, and the hand tensely gripping the strap of his backpack.

He looked as confused as Makoto was, as though he wasn’t sure how he reached his doorstep, and why he was there at all. Hesitantly, he gazed at Makoto and waited for him to say something, but he was too stunned to speak.

“I-I’m sorry I showed up all of a sudden,” said Haruka. “I called after I landed, but you seemed busy.”

Makoto blushed with embarrassment and glared accusingly at the bedroom where his phone was. That was him?

Shivering, Haruka puffed out a misty breath. “C-Can I come in?”

“Ah y-yes— sorry— please come in!”

More stuttered apologies followed as Makoto hurried to make some tea. Nikko jumped on the couch and settled on Haruka’s lap like it was her rightful place, meowing angrily. Reprimanding him for being gone for so long.

It was a rewind of when they met again almost a month ago, the two of them sitting on the opposite ends of the couch as though he was afraid Haruka would evaporate if he came too close.

“Did you forget anything?” Makoto blurted out to end the painfully prolonged silence.

Haruka blinked in surprise. “Uh yeah, I—“ he said, “I think I forgot my scarf. Hang on, let me just get it from the bedroom.” He scooped Nikko in his arms and rose up.

“Haru, _please._ ” Makoto sighed, shutting his eyes in agony and defeat. He didn’t have the energy to play games. Anger sparked in his veins, but fatigue had extinguished it before it could catch fire. He was too hurt, too tired, too weak to feel angry. Why was he here?

“Sorry,” said Haruka, sinking down in his seat and letting Nikko settle down on the space between them. He wrung his hands while he searched for words.

Tension swelled into a massive bubble, threatening to burst any second. Makoto feared that the wrong choice of words would make it explode and Haruka would be out the door, never to return, so he sat patiently and waited for him to speak.

After a very long pause, Haruka said, “I— I kept thinking about what happened to us before I left. A week ago and eight years ago.”

Makoto held his breath, his lips trembling.

“We’d been together all our lives,” continued Haruka, hanging his head. “We played together, laughed together, cried together… I-I thought you would always be by my side no matter what. Then we fought and I ran away without listening to you, so we both suffered. I’m— I’m sorry, Makoto.”

Makoto’s eyes welled up at the sound of Haruka’s wobbling voice. He swallowed the tightness in his throat and shook his head.

“No, Haru, I’m at fault too…” he said. “I should have told you about my plans sooner… I should have worked up the courage to tell you what I really meant to say. I’m so sorry.”

Looking into Haruka’s downcast eyes, he had a feeling that he was working up the courage to say his next words. Makoto could hear his own pulse beating quickly in the foreboding silence.

“Makoto,” said Haruka, finally meeting his eyes. Those deep pools of blue pulled him closer. “I love you. I want to be with you.”  

Makoto gasped in surprise. He threw his arms around Haruka, shattering all the walls he’d rebuilt between them. The stormy clouds in his chest finally parted, letting the light in and spreading joy across his face. He cried, “I want to be with you too.”

He longed to hear those words from him for years, but he didn’t imagine how surreal it would feel to hear him say it, to believe that _Haruka really wanted to be with him._

His lips enveloped Haruka’s and closed his eyes to feel the torrent of emotions crashing over him. Happiness, relief, hope.

“And I love you… I love you always.” He pulled away so he could see Haruka’s face more clearly despite his tears. “I’m s-sorry I told you before you left that I didn’t m-mean it… I-I-I didn’t want to make things c-complicated for you b-because I knew you’d have to g-go back chasing your dreams s-somewhere I couldn’t f-follow. I was s-s-so s-stupid.”

Haruka touched Makoto’s forehead with his and balled his fists on the back of his shirt. “I would have stayed if you asked me to.”

A heavy whimper escaped Makoto’s lips. He held Haruka’s trembling form tighter. “We’re both so dumb.”

“The dumbest.”

He pressed kisses on the dark circles around Haruka’s eyes. “Didn’t you sleep on the flight?”

“Couldn’t,” Haruka muttered on Makoto’s shoulder. “I was a wreck without you. Obviously.” He traced his fingertips across Makoto’s stubble. “Caveman.”

His own laughter sounded so foreign as it reverberated across the room. He’d forgotten how it sounded, but his chest had never felt lighter.

“I love you,” he said again, and again and again, planting a kiss on Haruka every time he said it.

He squeezed him, feeling his weight and his warmth, grounding himself in the moment. This was real. Haruka left, but he came back. He loved Makoto and he wanted to be with him despite everything. Despite his faults, despite his mess.

He looked around the house— their shoes were lined up neatly by the door, Haruka’s backpack lay on the floor, and Nikko nestled in between them. Haruka’s arms were wrapped around him, reminding him what home felt like.

He wiped his tears with the back of his hand and smiled. “Welcome back, Haru.”

Cupping Makoto’s face, Haruka cried and laughed at the same time. “I’m home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well that’s all, folks! thank you for reading my re-imagination of haru and makoto’s life after The Fight, for all the support, the kudos, and the comments. this fic wouldn’t have gotten this far without you! i hope you enjoyed reading it as much as i had fun writing it. and i hope you guys stay tuned for my next makoharu fics. until next time!
> 
> don't forget, you can find me here:  
>  [Twitter](https://twitter.com/nanases_h)  
>  [Tumblr](http://nanases-h.tumblr.com)


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